Thursday, December 20, 2012

Dark Clouds and Hope at Christmas


Dear Readers,
Here is the editorial I wrote for this week's Stowe Reporter, our local weekly.  I want to share this small attempt to come to grips with Newtown:

A dark cloud blew over the nation last week during this time typically reserved for joy and good will. Our hearts and prayers go out to the lost ones, their families, the community of Newtown, which will never be the same. We each would lift them up ourselves if we could. But we can’t.

There are too many dark clouds, too many goodbyes, too many tragedies, too many losses beyond words. From 9/11 to Newtown. We are weary for peace.

In our town, our own small New England town, as safe as a postcard, as pretty as a pin, the pain of Newtown hits us with poignancy. For many in Stowe the schools are the center of the universe. The music and singing from the elementary school holiday concert still rings in our ears; the sight of neighbors and friends pouring into the school gym, smiles from ear to ear, are fresh in our minds. It is unimaginable, what happened to Newtown. But it happened.

And now we come toward Christmas, which frames this season. Whether we take it as Gospel or parable, the story of the baby born in a manger is at its core a hard one. A husband and wife forced to sleep in a barn, she about to give birth. The baby is born among the farm animals and is Holy. The baby brings hope and joy to a hard world.

As difficult as life can be there is always hope. Even Pandora, after making the world-altering mistake of releasing evil from the mythical box, saw one last spirit enter the world. Hope.  

So in the shadow of darkness we turn to light and hope. We pray, even those of us who normally would not. We pray for Peace on Earth. Good will toward men.

This message is not just words. In our communities we experience the message every day. In a recent example, through the drive of one business owner in the village of Stowe, on a recent Saturday the people of an entire town ‘shopped ‘til they dropped’ to raise money for a little girl fighting cancer (and our prayers and wishes this holiday go out to you as well, brave young Rowan).

We all volunteer for something, raise money for someone, give to something. We make it a point to know each other, to be kind to each other, to watch out for each other. We water our neighbor’s gardens during summer breaks and take care of each others pets during holidays the year round; our kids live out of any of our kitchens; we are quick to make a meal and bring it when someone is sick or a parent is away or a family loses a loved one. We trust each other. Maybe now more than ever we will look to each other for the brightness in the world.

During this time, when good and bad are cast in sharp relief, when we are all thinking of the children, I want to turn to Linus Van Pelt to find light under the dark cloud. Linus is, some of us will know, Charlie Brown’s best friend.  

At the end of “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” disaster strikes Charlie yet again. The small tree he brought to the pageant cannot bear the weight of even one Christmas ornament. It falls over. Charlie believes he’s killed it. Pandemonium reigns. Quiet Linus, ignoring the chaos around him, takes center stage, and in a strong, small voice, quotes from Scripture. His speech ends with this: "And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'"

He then leaves the stage, wraps his truly cherished security blanket around the tree and the tree springs up. The children respond to Linus’s gesture and decorate the tree, which springs back to life and shines with light, with hope. 

            Whether we are believers or take the words just as meaningful parable, they ring so true this year. We crave peace on earth, good will toward all.


David Rocchio lives, works and writes in Stowe, Vermont. (c) 2012 David Rocchio

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Living Rural, Working Everywhere


            Living and working way North, in central Vermont, or what an old girlfriend’s lovely mother once referred to ‘as the back of beyond,’ as in ‘over my dead body will you move to the back of beyond with that guy,’ means going anywhere can be difficult and working with the outside world can be complex.  Here are some notes on how complicated it all can be.