Bless the Darkness
why I secretly love the dark, cold days of December
Recently, at dinner, Jonathan offered a prayer before we ate. I’m not sure if he meant to say what he did, but his words seemed to me then like one of those mistakes that turn out to be exactly right.
Bless the darkness, he said. And then, seeming to catch himself, he more properly blessed the food.
I secretly love the coldest and the darkest days.
It isn’…
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