"I think you should take a break from Twitter," I said to my 20yo today. Twitter is aboil with speculation about what happens next with Iran, and there's a limit to the number of times one can dive into churning overheated cauldrons of speculation and division before one's sanity becomes a little wobbly.
(Did I take my own advice, though? I did not. That is probably an Epiphany resolution waiting to happen.)
I am not sure which bit of Twitter disaster-mongering made me think of I Heard The Bells on Christmas Day, or what prompted me to look up the story behind the carol. Do you know it?
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's wife died in terrible circumstances: she set herself on fire and he was not able to help her put it out before she was burned too badly to survive. In the attempt to save her he was burned so badly himself that he couldn't attend her funeral. He is pictured with a beard in later life because he grew it out to cover his burn scars. This was in 1861. And if 2020 is getting you down, what with the depth of our political divisions and the rampant willingness to defend grave evil as necessity, maybe there's a little solace in contemplating 1861.
In 1863 Longfellow was still grieving his wife's death when his son Charley enlisted in the army against his wishes. Charley Longfellow was shot in the back in November, and in early December his father brought him home. That Christmas Day inspired his poem, which we know as a Christmas carol:
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said:
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!”
I am sharing it here on the tenth day of Christmas, in the event that you might also need a little hope.
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