NEW VOICES

For most of my life, Christmas was my favorite season. During Advent and
Christmas, I rarely have existential doubts.

We are all familiar with the expectations surrounding Christmas: being in the
bosom of a loving family, listening to nostalgia-invoking carols in front of the out-
of-Norman-Rockwell-fireplace, eating family cherished recipes together midst
laughter and high spirits.

I even loved the commercialism. And God bless the real Santa Claus.

The thing about Christmas -- it heightens public joys and private woes. When the
woes clamor more loudly than the joys, one wants to lean against the fragrantly
wreathed door shouting “Bah hum bug!” Get out.

For most of my life, Halloween was underrated. I no longer fear the demons
behind every bush. That’s what the Jack O’ Lanterns are for -- to scare away
those party poopers.








Halloween is a pregnant holiday. Yes, it is full of the anticipation of the long winter
with all it brings. There will be the forever new scents of the Thanksgiving and
Christmas food ahead. Most folks can fit in at least one seasonal concert, even if
it is simply enjoying it on television.
Halloween is not so packed with baggage.

When I was a pastor, family members of the congregation did light candles in
honor of loved ones who had departed in the last year, in church, on the Sunday
nearest November first. The altar was always covered with flowers. There were
tea lights that anyone could come forward and set alight in honor of any departed
dear folks from any era. By the end of that segment of the service, the front of the
church would gleam with brightness and warmth.

Halloween Day and Evening, after the candy coveting goblins have left, can be
designated for reading mildly frightening ghost stories, “The Legend of Sleepy
Hollow” and such. One can hope that there is some candy left over.

In recent years, I have felt closer to my late parents, grandparents, sister-in-law
and friends on Halloween. I don’t think it is gloominess on my part. It is a new
statistic that Halloween is the next most decorated holiday after Christmas. Every
society needs to honor its dead. Even though All Hallows Eve has been
domesticated into a kids’ holiday, it is obvious that many feel this need.

I feel a comfort of resting in the arms of the Dark Goddess on that day. The veil is
thinner on Halloween.
 
My Favorite Season
by Jean Larson
Don’t Forget to Remember
     by S.K. Hamilton
When white winter withers past
December
and April showers turn brown grass
green,
my bed will be so full of you
there’ll be  almost no room left for me.

Soon as spring sprouts wings to fly
and summer’s drummer splashes rain,
you and I will disappear
behind cotton candy clouds.
into a cobalt sky.

Prying eyes peer from windows below,
but they don’t see…you and me.
Like black cats in a dark room.
We hide.

And when golden autumn strips
each branch - swiftly - baring limbs,
and November brings long chill nights
filled with glittering stars,

remember me.

You’re here now, but you’re going
soon.
I see it in your eyes - feel it in your
touch.
Sure as the wind whistles,
you’re leaving - taking nights and days
of me with you.

Before you go - hold me - please.
Awe…where did you learn to hold - just
right?

Go softly now.
Silent shoes carry you away.
Don’t look back.
I’m ugly when I cry.


The four seasons are wonderful but summer means
more to me than the others. The memory of summer
meant camping on the Menomonee River in the
nineteen seventies. We found the campsite by accident
while travelling to the Upper Peninsula and returned
every year.

The serenity of the river, the sounds of fish jumping,
the warm breezes we felt as we canoed up and down
the river are some of the many pleasant memories of
those years.
We had a little Chihuahua named Candy, she loved the
canoe and I can still see her standing on the bow with
her nose in the air taking in all the smells.

We could not fish with her in the boat, as she would not
leave the fish alone so we had to lock her in the
camper. She did not like that and let us know about it.

Watching the bald eagles our Nations symbol, dive to
the river catching big fish in their talons and taking
them back to their nest to feed the young was a sight
to see.
Skinny-dipping in the moonlight was daring but fun. It
was wonderful to feel the cool waster wash over our
bodies after a day in the sun.

Sitting at the crackling fire at night, listening to the
coyotes bark and howl, toasting marshmallows on a
branch from a tree was an experience of summers that
is embedded in my mind forever.
Memories of Summer
By Gloria Persinger
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