Well, here we are again, so soon
It seems, the yearly crush of holidays
Rolls round again: ringing bells, the ever present
Threat of childish tears, and life speeds on,
Not slow like when we were kids
But quickly in a now accustomed groove,
A routine we know perhaps too well by rote:
Solstice, a new year, and it begins again, so fast.
A good moment then to stop time
Step outside ourselves, think of what we owe
To others: Family, sure, and friends – give thanks! –
But also strangers, those who live in darker places
Than ourselves, without. Give something of yourself
To someone else, a mite, a gift, the warming light.
—David C. Ward, Senior Historian, National Portrait Gallery