And one of the songs that came up, which I hadn't heard for a while and which always makes me cry.
I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day
I heard the bells on Christmas Day their old familiar carols play
And wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth goodwill to men
I thought how as the day had come the belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along unbroken song of peace on earth goodwill to men
And in despair I bowed my head there is no peace on earth I said
For hate is strong that mocks the song of peace on earth goodwill to men
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep God is not dead nor doubt he sleeps
The wrong shall fail the right prevail with peace on earth goodwill to men
And I was wrapping, and there were tears in my eyes, and it's like standing ghost-like and observing some sad dream which nevertheless manages to glow with the sweet and pure light that is hope.
I am NOT what you might call "religious" - and the words "God is not dead nor doth he sleep" probably don't mean the same thing for me as they do for the more traditional denizens of Christendom - but they do mean something. I don't know precisely what myself. Something that touches me. My husband calls me a dyed-in-the-wool born pessimist and calls em WCS (as in Worst Case Scenario) when I predict doom and disaster (but my philosophy has always been to expect the worst - that way you're never disappointed). But that tough crabshell of protective armour - of always expecting the worst possible thing to happen - hides something light and fragile and always hopeful adn full of dreams. I don't know why the words "the wrong shall fail the right prevail" ring so strongly for me, but they do - and on some fundamental level, despite the evidence to the contrary which you might say is piling higher every day, I still believe it.
Perhaps that is the great truth which I hold within me, and which I have chosen the realms of fantasy to try and pass on to other people.