Downright goodness

Julia ♦ December 17, 2025 ♦ Leave a comment

For years I’ve had a strange quirk of using a different design of wrapping paper for each and every gift under the tree; no two ever wrapped in the same paper.
Perhaps I was sending myself a sort of coded message that I would later need.
This photo of our Alexandria tree was taken in December 2010.

“It is, without doubt, the gifts we get from our excursions into differences—the people we come to know whom we could never have met otherwise, the wisdom we see in those we consider to be simpler than ourselves, the downright goodness of those we fear because we do not know them—that make us bigger of soul, greater of heart, than we could possibly ever have been otherwise.” — Joan Chittister

Typically at this time of year we wish each other happy times with family and close friends, and of course I wish that for all of you. But beyond that, I wish you a gift rarely chosen intentionally, but perhaps even more weighted with divine blessing: I wish you the gift of time with those whose company you did not seek out; who seem to serve no desired purpose in your life; those who have nothing much to give you that the world generally values.

We often hear stories about the unbelievable financial wealth we might have today if we had bought a few shares of this or that stock before anyone could have known how valuable it would become someday. If only we had known, we may tell ourselves. Yet we may be missing an even larger secret, one now invisible to mortal eyes. What we may never know fully– at least not in this life– is the value of everyday people with whom we are brought into contact through quirks of fate or circumstance.

In more than two years since Jeff’s death, my life often has been dependent on people totally outside my demographic group, as I found that many of those I had expected to depend upon were not around with any consistency. These new people who showed up in my life and Matt’s– whether they were black, white, Asian or Hispanic, Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, or Christian, younger or older than me, with or without significant disabilities, to name only the most obvious differences– gave me more than the reassurance that Matt and I were not alone. They taught me that having no choice about my own circumstances or Matt’s (which in our culture is surely one of the most feared and dreaded of conditions, as it means an almost total loss of control) can bring hidden gifts and unexpected transformations.

There’s no question that such encounters are not easy. And I hesitate to wish you anything difficult. Yet there is much of inestimable value that goes unrecognized and undiscovered. This Christmas season, I hope you strike an untapped lode of downright goodness in the hearts of friends you didn’t realize you had– goodness that will fill your life with spiritual dividends beyond anything you might have imagined.

This post was first published seven years ago today. True to the theme of its message, the cast members who star in my current life have changed considerably since then. Many have exited for one reason or another, to be replaced by relative newcomers who have become dear to me, and have played crucial roles in my current interests and activities. Of course, those of you who have been with me a long time– and you know who you are!– remain a cherished and important part of my world.

The strange thing about aging is that, in some ways, one’s world grows ever smaller, with losses and griefs multiplying and physical abilities waning. Yet also the world grows expansively as the busyness that formerly ruled our schedules gives way to outward exploration and discovery, whether literal or psychological. We travel on, geographically or only in our minds, and wonder at the unknown blessings already on the way. 

The blog is not designed for viewing on cell phones, but you can get a less distorted version of the photos if you click on the “view on blog” link at the top right of the screen. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, at the individual post views. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.