Author: Sharron Burnett

As we begin a new year I often think back on my life which now numbers more decades than I ever imagined. I do not engage in “what ifs” because all in all I have enjoyed my journey. As with anyone my biography has had its ups and downs, struggles and victories. There have been times so wonderful that I found myself wishing that time might be made to stand still. Other moments were so difficult that I wanted to escape from them as soon as possible. All in all mine has been a series of events much like those that most human beings encounter. I have learned that small pleasures are the most valuable and that people are mostly good. I have found myself finding strengths that I never knew I had. 

While my life is mostly good I have seen that others have been challenged with immeasurable suffering. I think of how horrific it must be for people who have been shunned by society and treated without the kind of respect and kindness that should be the due of everyone, not just those who are the same as I am. As a child I saw Black people sitting at the back of buses and being humiliated by segregation. My mother told me of the prejudices hurled against immigrants like herself. From my mother I also realized how isolated and despised and misunderstood those afflicted with mental illness so often are. I came to know members of the LGBTQ community and learned about the tragedies of hatred that they endure even to this very day. I comforted women who had been abused by brutal men. 

Somehow I have been thinking about one of my mother’s repeated quotes discussing “man’s inhumanity to man.” Historically we humans have a dark track record of being cruel and sometimes even deadly in our relationships with one another. We humans even managed to put a good and gentle man to death on a cross for no legitimate reason other than misunderstanding his message of love. 

At this time of year I look at the Christmas cards that I received from friends and family members. There always seems to be one that stands out more than the others. In the long ago in the year of my youngest daughter’s birth one of my dearest friends gave me a greeting that simply said, “Love was born at Christmastime.” 

I was so taken by that message that I framed the card and kept it on a wall in my home until it became yellowed with age. Somehow the essence of the Christmas story and the life of Jesus was synthesized in those five words. It all seemed so simple to me. The reason for the season is that we learned from that baby born to Mary and Joseph how we are supposed to love. The words of Jesus, the adult, were so very clear when he told us to love our neighbors just as we love ourselves. A whole religion called Christianity grew up around his message and example and yet we have forgotten or maybe ignored the heart of what he told us to do. 

Slaveholders read the Bible. People who hung Black men from trees read the Bible. Some who abuse each other read the Bible. Men who put Jews in concentration camps read the Bible. Even today the Bible is being used as a weapon to hurt others. It’s an age old hypocrisy of humans to use religion as an excuse for hate or greed or power. 

I recall a time when many people walked around with shirts and lanyards emblazoned with the letters and question mark WWJD? Of course they asked, “What would Jesus do?” and they were a kind of reminder to us to consider how this great teacher would expect us to behave in any situation. Somehow I don’t recall any account of his life including fire and brimstone rages about people. What I do recall is his willingness to perform miracles in defiance of silly rules prohibiting such things on certain days of the week. I remember him touching people with leprosy when others ostracized them for being unclean. I think of the time that he praised the Samaritan who was considered to be an outsider in his community. I know of his love of Mary Magdalene who was thought to be a fallen woman. Over and over again he demonstrated his unfettered love and concern for people who were generally ostracized and hated. 

I think if Jesus were to return today he would be saddened with some of the interpretations of his message. We’ve muddled the simplicity of what he told us to do with exception after exception. We drive immigrants seeking refuge from our midst then go to church proclaiming our piety. We judge people even as we know that Jesus chided us for judging lest we also be judged. We spew hatred for people that we do not understand and pretend that our intentions are grounded in the rules of religion, forgetting that there is one basic rule that will allow us to always do the right thing. 

If we truly love one another we will not steal or harm or spread lies about each other. We will honor everyone just as Jesus told us to do. We will not cheat or scheme or neglect each other. Jesus took complicated rules and boiled them down to a few words that said all that we need to do and he told us exactly how we all should strive to be. If we truly want to praise God and live properly in this season of celebration we will take a deep breath and offer kindness in all things. We don’t have to understand someone to love him or her. I feel certain that is what Jesus wanted us to know. In the final analysis it’s all about love.  

Some folks are pretty good at seeing things coming.

It’s a new year and I am doing my best to concentrate on the hopefulness of a new start. I’ve been anxious about the future of our nation for many many months as I have witnessed Donald Trump and his followers rewrite the history of what I witnessed happening on January 6, 2021. I have been on a roller coaster ride of hope and despair for months, even years in realizing that Trump was not going away, was not going to receive justice for his many crimes. Somehow everything that I believed about the goodness and fairness of the United States of America kept unravelling before my very eyes until the reality that Donald Trump was narrowly being sent back to the White House crushed my very soul. 

I have spent the past weeks hoping to make sense of the fact that a selfish hateful man was elected by a narrow margin of voters who somehow believe that he is the panacea that our nation needs in this time of division and uncertainty. I did my best to be kind and understanding to those who voted for this despicable man. I understand that inflation has made the cost of simply living from day to day quite difficult. I have seen my grocery bills grow to an almost unbelievable high. Shopping for the Christmas festivities was more stressful than ever. I realized that many Americans with fewer resources than I have must indeed be worried about just getting by. The economy has always been a major factor in the decisions that individuals make when they vote. 

Nonetheless it seemed to me that Trump’s chronic hatefulness and meandering bombast would be judged negatively by a majority of people. Surely, I thought, the American electorate would be turned off by such a blithering and bitter fool who mostly seemed intent on seeking revenge rather than building alliances and moving forward together after the long frightening years of the pandemic and wars in so many parts of the world. 

One of my daughters was not as certain as I was that Americans would be as turned off by the ugliness. She kept warning me that Trump had channeled people’s deepest fears and that even in his most incoherent moments he had convinced them that he was the strongman that they needed to set our ship aright. She tried to anchor my optimism in the realities of what she saw happening. 

Of course I was shocked when the votes had been counted and it was clear that Trump was going to be president again. Still, I felt that surely he would be more humble because his victory was won by such a narrow margin. I hoped that he would see that we desperately need a leader who works for everyone, not just one third of the population. I grieved in a kind of stoic silence and prayed that everything would be okay. I thought I had until January 20, 2025 to worry about what will unfold. I did not expect the fireworks to be sent into the sky before he even took office and yet here we are and I realize that my daughter was masterful in seeing what is coming.

It has been bad enough hearing about the atrocious cabinet nominations that Trump has made. Even worse is his plan to use two unelected billionaires to gut our federal agencies. His daily promises for revenge against his perceived enemies has been unnerving and the unwillingness of the media to stand up to his bullying has left me in a state of panic. Still, I did my best to cling to positive thoughts and actions. 

I decorated my home for Christmas. I sent out my Christmas cards and greetings. I planned festivities with friends and family. I read a chapter of Luke from the Bible each day. I prayed and looked for the silver lining in the news. I clung to the idea that Trump was not going to be nearly as bad as I had imagined. I listened to people who are calmer than I am who reassured me that things would settle down and the next four years would be much like any others. Then came the audacity of Elon Muck demanding that Congress abandon an appropriations bill that they had agreed to sign after much compromise. When many of them backed down and seemed willing to allow the government to shut down on the eve of Christmas I felt broken. When Trump vowed at the same moment in time to try Liz Cheney for the crime of investigating him after January 6, 2020, I felt as though he had personally punched me and knocked me to the ground. When ABC folded so quickly after Trump threatened to sue them for defamation when in fact only the truth had been uttered I felt the weight of despair crush me. Then I took a deep breath and resolved not to lie on the ground whimpering. I knew then that the only way that we will get through the horror of what is surely to come is if we resist all efforts to destroy our beautiful democracy. 

I thought of those men that we now call our Founding Fathers risking their very lives to revolt against a monarchy. I remembered Abraham Lincoln standing firm in keeping our nation together. I thought of Franklin Delano Roosevelt guiding us through an horrific war against evil despots. I remembered the men who have been presidents during my lifetime and while none of them were perfect, they all tried to be the best versions of themselves. Even the one who left the White House in shame did so with a sense of doing what was right for the people. 

Our future feels grim and ugly if indeed Trump continues with his goals of vindictiveness and selfish lust for power. He is dealing with people’s lives without a sense of compassion. He is threatening changes that may well be disastrous. I see that now more clearly than ever and understand that pretending otherwise will only make the situation worse. We Americans must protect our Constitution and our laws and the essence of our democracy. It’s up to us to call out those who would destroy them for their own selfish purposes. Looking the other way would be terribly wrong. We must be vigilant in protecting each other, most especially when we are celebrating the birth of a new year. My only resolution this year will be to do whatever it takes to protect my country and its people.  

As a young child I read every book about saints in my school library. I suppose I wanted to know what qualities define a truly good person. I was sometimes frustrated by thoughts that the people whose stories I read seemed more otherworldly than other humans I had observed. I did not think it possible to be as perfect as they were described to be and so I stopped hoping to find a saintly individual who had overcome the kind of flaws that we ordinary humans always have. It was not until I was older that I realized that those little books that I so voraciously devoured had been written more like fairytales than actual biographies of flesh and blood people. I understood that saintliness is not defined as a person without our human limitations, but rather by their efforts to be kind and understanding to others. 

Saints are people like the rest of us but they work hard to focus less on themselves and more on the needs of the people around them, especially those who are often overlooked or even spurned. With my new definition I was able to see that my own dear mother with all of her weaknesses and foibles was at heart a true saint. She was a woman who dedicated her life to loving the people around her to the maximum extent possible. She experienced grave tragedies and hardships and illnesses with an unswerving faith in God and an optimism and generosity of spirit that was unmatched by most of the people I have known. At the same time she was imperfect and at times struggled with a kind of dark anxiety from which she struggled to escape. Somehow she always did through her overriding faith and devotion to her family and friends. 

Jimmy Carter was also such a person. On the whole he was a loving man who used his stature to minister to the needy and suffering people of the world. His faith in God was a driving force for all that he did even as he honestly admitted to experiencing moments of doubt and confusion and even anger over the vagaries of life. In his dedication to others, he rose above the temptations that threaten each of us and lived a life filled with love and compassion for his fellow humans. 

Jimmy Carter was born into a farming family that was not rich but still had more than enough to feel comfortable. He grew up in a home without an indoor bathroom in a time of deep desperation for the American people. He was a citizen of the deep south where segregation was so intrenched that Black Americans were treated as outsiders with few rights in spite of their freedom from slavery. He was a bright young man who had dreams of moving beyond the confines of the little town in Georgia where he was born. With big goals in his heart he went to Annapolis, Maryland where he studied engineering at the Naval Academy and later to Georgia Tech where he secured the knowledge that he believed would be his life’s work. 

After a brief stent working on the first nuclear submarine with Admiral Rickenbacker his family responsibilities pulled him back home to Georgia to run the peanut farm. It was not the life he or his young wife had envisioned but he was a good son who did what he believed he needed to do. Sacrificing for others without too much grumbling would become one of his most impressive traits. He accepted his fate but balanced his responsibilities by becoming involved with local politics. 

One thing led to another and he found himself serving as governor of Georgia and then being tapped to run for President of the United States, a seemingly improbable rise for a man from a small town in a state with deep roots in slavery, the Confederacy and segregation. Amazingly he won the election of 1976 with promises to always be honest and to provide opportunities to minorities who had mostly been shut out of the powers of government. 

He was a quite unexpected spectacle in Washington DC with his outspoken mother who had joined the Peace Corps in her senior years and a crew of Black supporters to whom he gave important positions. He brokered a lasting peace between Israel and Egypt as well as continuing Richard Nixon’s efforts to develop better communication between the United States and China. On the other hand he struggled with an inflation fueled economy in the nation and the fall of Iran into the hands of Muslim extremists who imprisoned Americans living there. In spite of the many innovations that he created he was ultimately defeated after only one term as President and went home to Georgia to decide what to next do with his life. Little did anyone predict how important his next work would become. 

Rather than sitting back and enjoying a quiet life, Jimmy Carter embraced a decades long determination to live for the good of others. He built homes for the poor, fought for the rights of minorities across the world, contributed to global health and eventually earned the Nobel Peace Prize for his unflagging work to make the world a better place. All the while he taught Bible School classes as his hometown Baptist Church and became an icon of goodwill and kindness. 

Jimmy Carter died at the age of one hundred, the only President in history to live so long. He was married for over seventy six years to the same woman who had been his teenage sweetheart. He touched the lives of millions of people around the world while still living in the simple home of his youth. His largess is legendary and few would doubt that he was indeed a saint. 

I heard Jimmy Carter speak at a Rice University graduation ceremony in 1993. On that day he challenged the students to dedicate their brilliance and their energy to enhancing the world for all people. His words were uplifting and honest as he admitted to the kind of challenges they would face but insisted that the best hope for our nation and the world lay in our united efforts to focus with love and compassion on helping those who struggle. I have never forgotten President Carter’s message to all of us and I have marveled over the many years that he spent living the way he asked us all to do. I am certain that when he finally reached the pearly gates of heaven God and St. Peter and the members of his family were all there to greet him with a hearty welcome. I for one believe that he is one of our newest saints, one who inspires me to be a better person. My he rest in peace with the angels.

I often think about the earliest humans and marvel at the genius that prompted them to make tools, gaze at the heavens, create fires, experiment with cooking. I wonder who thought of roasting meat rather than gnawing on raw flesh. How did they concoct bread or make ovens? If left alone in the wilderness with nothing but my wits would I be as industrious and ingenious as our long ago ancestors were? How did they even understand that the pain in their stomachs meant it was time to eat? Do we just have natural instincts that lead us to behave in certain ways and then attempt to continually improve on the methods that we have developed?

It is fascinating to me that ancient civilizations were builders many of whose structures still stand to this very day. Why did humans decide to carve exquisite statues out of stone or paint on the walls of caves? How did they demystify the heavens and know how to keep track of time? 

The ascent of humankind is a marvel that confounds me with admiration. I suppose that there have always been geniuses who rise above their peers to invent and create. Somewhere along our long arc of history people learned how to use their voices in song and began to move their bodies in dance. They made instruments for cooking and playing music and for warring. They also understood the need for working together to achieve higher levels of civilization even as they were wary of outsiders who were not like them. 

So much has happened on this earth that it would take many lifetimes to become acquainted with the enormous history of the planet itself as well as the creatures and humans that have inhabited it. We study these things because in learning about the past we grow closer to understanding our natures and both the advances and mistakes that people have made. I am both in awe of human resilience and worried about our ever present tendencies to fall into the trap of violent behaviors in our efforts to protect ourselves. Somehow our modern ways of living make our time on this earth easier than it has ever been but we have also created horrors like bombs and guns that threaten us with far more destruction than history has ever seen. We have not evolved to a point of peaceful coexistence. We still lie awake at night like the cave dwellers of old worrying about the dangers that threaten us. 

Many humans in many eras have dreamed of a perfect world in which everyone gets along, resources are equitably shared, every person is honored and respected for the contributions that they are able to give. In such perfection we don’t equate the appearance of a person with measures that rank them. We simply cooperate for the good of all. 

Of course history has shown us that we have never been ready for the pipe dreams of eternal peace, love, and joy. Our anxieties tell us that a daily dose of unicorns and rainbows has never come to reality. Our human natures have yet to rise to perfection. Someone always ruins the idea with theft or violence or power plays that take advantage of goodness. For all the time we read about the wonders of humans there is also the specter of want, greed, war, destruction. 

I think about such things just as humans have no doubt done for eons. I like to believe that in most ways we have evolved to a point of being able to live together in relative peace, but the horrors of our footprints still abound. In spite of thousands of years of human genius attempting to show us the way to harmony we still have difficulty just getting along. 

Perhaps it is naive to think that it is possible to use our talents only for good when the evidence is so strong that we have to allow for the deviancies of our natures that spoil our best laid plans. Maybe it is in understanding our individual imperfections and working on them one person at a time that a happier more inviting world will emerge. I suppose that we have to admit that sometimes for whatever reason we will encounter people who are broken but they are the outliers, not the mean. 

Life has always been a struggle for humans. We have to first satisfy our needs for food and safety. We need places to sleep without fear at night. When those very basic necessities are not met, we become agitated and willing to follow either those who are optimistic and enlightened or those who stoke our fears and make us believe that fighting is the only guarantee of survival. The dichotomy of how we choose to face our challenges creates the tensions that have always existed for humans. 

I often find myself feeling very close to the vast array of people who came before me. They are a wonder to me but I also consider the future and how I might make the next days and years and centuries better for those yet to come. I take hope in knowing that even on the most intimate level we each make a difference in the lives of those around us. Perhaps the key to a better world comes in our own personal responsibilities for our families and neighbors and communities. If we can do good work for most of our days we have the cumulative power to move history forward in positive and inspiring ways. This we must do all the days of our lives. The long and winding road of history will continue on and we each have a part in determining which directions to take. 

This is a love story about people from the class of nineteen sixty seven at Mt. Carmel High School. 

Once upon a time they came together to grow in wisdom and age and grace before God and man. They were a cute bunch of kids who met as freshmen and graduated as young men and women Among them was a couple that seemed so cute together, so perfect, but perhaps it was just a high school fling because after graduation they went their different ways leading often exciting and even adventurous lives without each other. 

She loved horses and rode them in competitions. He went to medical school and became a highly respected doctor. Both of them would marry other people, become parents, continue to follow their passions and seemingly move farther and farther away from each other. The sweet photos of them dancing together as teens would age inside photo albums and somehow only be nice memories of a long ago past, or so it seemed. 

Fifty years later they were both single again. Their children were grown. The members of the Class of Sixty Seven were planning a reunion, a time to reminisce and check to be certain that everyone was still doing well. Perhaps that’s when a spark was ignited between them once again or maybe it had always been waiting in the back of their minds for a moment when they might get to know each other again.

At first they were simply two people joining other classmates for dinner dates or celebrations. Before long they were riding horses together on the beach or meeting up for baseball and football games. Everyone saw how happy they were when they were taking dance lessons or just laughing and telling each other stories. It came as no surprise when they announced that they were in love and planning to marry. Their buddies from high school were overjoyed to hear the news. it seemed so right, as though the world had purposely adjusted to make sure that their union happened. 

When the day of their life as man and wife finally came she was beaming with joy and beauty that literally radiated in every photo. The girls from school who were now mature women had stood by her and decade after decade. They were overjoyed to see their two friends coming together. The children celebrated that their parents could find such joy and love even in their seventies. He was handsome and so sweetly smiled at her. It all would have been perfect if he had not become ill on that day. Nonetheless nothing seemed capable of reducing the happiness that their expressions confirmed. 

As time unfolded they went on cruises, hosted wonderful parties, became more and more part of each other’s extended families and circles of friendship. Being around them was revitalizing. The energy released from their devotion to each other was palpable. It felt good just being in the same room with them. Somehow the old saws about the purity and everlasting essence of first love seemed to be confirmed in their partnership. I was a joining of two spirits who seemed meant to be together. 

Just when life seemed so perfect for these two and for the old friends who supported them he was diagnosed with cancer. He could not have asked for better care. She lovingly walked hand in hand with him every step of the way during his medical journey. She kept that brilliant smile on her face and demonstrated her total devotion to the vows that she made to him on their wedding day. She was in it for sickness or health and he once again appeared to be well. 

They celebrated every single day of life with so much gusto that I wondered where they got all of their energy. They seemed to be everywhere doing everything wonderful, hugging and kissing each other with unabated wonder. It was delightful to see them together and to literally witness the power of love. 

Then came a shock for those of us who found our own joy in celebrating their love. He had died. It was devastating and bitterly emotional, but their romance that had seemed more intense that any ever created in fiction continues on in her heart and in the memories of him that she so generously shares with us even in her grief. 

I have cried for her but also understood the great gift of love that the two fo them gave each other. Romeo and Juliet have nothing on Punch and David. Theirs was a very special relationship that mellowed like a fine wine over time. She was a princess and he was her sweet prince. She may wish him goodnight but I know that he will not be gone. His memory will be a blessing to her for the rest of her life.