Someday at Christmas

When I was a young girl growing up in Southwestern, Pennsylvania our winters were bitterly cold. The temperature would often plummet to below freezing and there just never seemed to be enough blankets. Back then I slept in the same bed alongside my sister who was five years my senior. She had a tendency to shake the bed in order to lull herself to sleep. However, for me, this constant movement simply made me seasick. Many nights my mother would hear me crying out in agony “Stop shaking the bed!” and would take pity upon me and invite me to her room to sleep. Now granted the refuge from the nonstop crashing waves was great, but entering my mother’s sonic boom chamber with her buzz-saw like snoring was no thrill either. The only solace on those frigid winter nights in Pittsburgh when I was cast from the boat of my rocking bedroom to that of my mother’s booming vibrating palate was the fact that her bed was warm and her body even warmer.

My mother, offering me a sanctuary in my time of agony was how I learned compassion.  Not only did she realize that I needed relief, she also knew that welcoming me into her room was no picnic either. She would snuggle me close to her warm body and gently stroke my nappy head and whisper reflections of early days of her own life and that of my own until I fell off to sleep.  I always hoped she would hear me when I cried out. She had such a gentle spirit.

Today, as I reflect on those days and see how our current leaders in Washington lack any basic degree of compassion for their fellow citizens who are in obvious agony is palpable. Leaders like Mitch McConnell who tout his reason for not wanting to pass even a two month tax-cut extension for the middle-class due to the fact that the measly amount it would yield in each paycheck was not worth the challenge it would generate for “job creators” who would have to make adjustments to their payroll system.  Really?!  Compassion is clearly not a part of the GOP vocabulary.

As these Congressional leaders leave town with Washington, DC in their review mirrors, we are left in communities around the country to sit and stew over how poorly we are being represented.  Someday, it is my hope that our country will once again be led by leaders with compassion, the kind of compassion that helps the middle class tax-payers through their discomfort by offering hope instead of withholding help.

Many of our troops are home now in time for Christmas, in time to hear all the rancor coming out of Washington. Many of these troops will be seeking employment and until such time that they are able to find a job, I am sure a tax-cut will help out a lot for their employed spouses and family members. War is still being waged around the globe and we are still considering more battles with other countries. Someday at Christmas, the fear of losing jobs, homes, unemployment benefits, loved ones and even health insurance will be replaced with hope in the hearts of America’s citizens. With 2011 soon to be in our collective rearview mirrors, it is my wish that in 2012 that our political leaders will commit to offering each of us less fear and agony and far more compassion and hope.