2020 Kindness

Stephanie Parker McKean

To me, the ultimate image of human kindness is opening up the door on a dark, gale-force-wind stormy night to a neighbor with water and sleet streaming off his face and running down his clothes and the humble offer, “Want me to walk your dog for you?”

Rather than reflecting on the stress, hardship, and unpleasantness the covid-19 virus brought to 2020, I choose to reflect on the kindness. The first day a major lockdown was announced for Scotland in March, I set out on crutches as usual to walk our dog Savannah with whispered prayer along the way. The streets around our house were empty. No moving cars, no people. I felt like the last person alive on planet earth. There had been scant news about the virus—how it spread, where it lurked, and how to avoid it. Being the only person moving outside the walls of a house—I…

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The Light of the World

The next time you look at a lighted Christmas tree, think of this.

Meghan E White


It was a clear, cold December night as Martin Luther was walking in the woods preparing a sermon. As the forest darkened Martin headed back home and noticed light through the fir trees. Stars illuminated the night sky. That beautiful starlight made Martin think of Jesus coming down from heaven to earth.

He was so moved by his experience in the woods that Martin brought a small fir tree home and placed candles on the branches. The lit tree in his house was a reminder of God’s light to the world. This was an unusual thing to do in 16th century Germany. Over time, others began to follow Martin’s example and decorate small fir trees with candles.

The story of Martin Luther, the infamous protestant reformer, lighting a tree is well known. Though it may be just a story, it still inspires. I can’t help but think about God’s light…

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To the Laude fandom—I still don’t get it.

They called him a king, yet gave him no crown.

But no one expected Laudilas de Glas to care, and he was happy to oblige. Crowns had never been to his liking, whether the costume ones made of paint and cheap brass that he wore on stage, or the one that had once lined his grandfather’s brow. The Mad King had been the last to wear the Glass Crown, his actions shattering the centuries-old relic and bringing a once royal family down deep into the gutter—

Or in Laude’s particular case at the moment, Prevecost District Four Jailhouse.

The actor sighed out a wine-sodden breath and rubbed at his shackled wrists. It wasn’t his fault. Well, it was. He had punched the man. Twice. But how was he supposed to know the loud-mouthed foreigner was a diplomat from the holy city of…

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