“When the song of the angel is still, when the star in the sky is gone, when kings and princes are home, when the shepherds are back with their sheep, the work of Christmas begins: to find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among people, to make music in the heart.” Howard Thurman Every year in that fragile time between Christmas and New Year’s, or for that matter until Epiphany, I try to hold onto something which I thought I had captured on Christmas Eve, some sense of light and love and peace. I water the tree excessively ignoring the falling needles. I stare extra deeply into the angels strewn about the shelves. I replace those tiny window candle lights even if for a day. I am fighting off a sadness and inevitability until I realize in my aging that these desperate acts have little to do with the heart of Christmas; and the heart of Christmas is not confined to one day or twelve.   Howard Thurm...