We’re in the Florida Keys for Christmas, a vacation primarily courtesy of a wonderful brother, and while we’re swimming in the pool on Christmas Day, Caleb thinks back on our visit to Santa at ABC Carpet, two weeks ago.

“I got my Playmobil,” he says, “and Liam got Yugio, like we ordered.”  He paddles around for a minute or two.

“So Mommy, why didn’t Santa bring Liam world peace like he asked for, too?”

Good question.

Let’s bracket for a minute the question of why my son thinks that Santa is some kind of short-order cook who rustles up toys according to customers’ orders and think about this world peace question.

Clearly Santa and the elves were fresh out of world peace, alas, but today was nevertheless one of those counting-blessings days (and yes, Oprah, I know I should do that every day but what can I say. Some days, blessings just seem far and few between).

But here goes: blessings:  two children who (despite regular efforts to kill one another) are healthy and happy; a partner who (despite my regular efforts to Improve Him) loves me; a brother who (despite regular teasing about his day job) is willing to be the primary financer of a holiday vacation; an extended family who (despite regular tiffs and snits) loves each other enough to brave blizzards, airports, and general holiday travel mayhem in order to get together. 

Blessings: basically the people I love and who, against all odds, continue to love me.  As Bill McKibben once wrote, if we all really loved one another as we loved ourselves,  much of the ill-will in the world would become impossible.

Whether it’s Christmas or Kwanzaa or Hanukah or just another day in December, I hope that peace finds you all, and that we all find peace.

Shantih.