I got out my bike at midnight and went for a ride. Every second was fantastic, and there is one section in particular that is the subject of today's entry.
Four towns are on my usual route. Not to sound condescending, but I pass a row of homes and apartments that aren't in the greatest shape. It's not a crime ridden section, but it's clear it's not a rich neighborhood. Every home had a tree in the window, even if it was a small one. Every home and apartment had a string of lights on the front porch. Not wealthy in terms of dollars, but wealthy in terms of spirit, and one is a whole lot more important than the other.
That brings to mind a Christmas story from years ago. I've told this one before, but it's been a while, and we have some new readers. It was 1990 or 1991. I was working down the street. Photographer John and I, who now works with me here at WNEP, were sent to do a story on an East Stroudsburg Salvation Army Christmas Eve dinner for the less fortunate. Everyone there was great. A tree, gifts, food, music, happy adults, even happier children, Santa... The whole nine yards. It was a good story.
As John and I were leaving the Salvation Army to head to a few more assignments, I said to John that I felt sorry for the people there. John replied that I shouldn't feel sorry. The people at the Salvation Army were having a great Christmas, and they had things they otherwise couldn't get or afford. It was a party with friends and family. They knew people cared.
It was the classic glass half empty/half full situation. I was the half empty guy. John saw the glass as half full, and you know what? He was right. I often think of that cold December night, and it came to mind as I was riding my bike on a warm December morning, more than twenty years later.
Warm weather. Warm thoughts.
