Our family has a holiday sock gifting tradition that has provided me with more than a week’s worth of red, green or black footwear decorated with bears, wreaths, candy canes and sparkle. Usually in the Midwest I can wear boots and jeans enough to camouflage my collection beyond the respectable boundaries of holiday celebration.
Tonight I wear the one pair I keep for Christmas Eve. Tiny angels blowing on delicate horns float on a black background. I call them my Angels We Have Heard on High socks. For twenty-four hours these socks bind me to my faith heritage, to remembering the message of hope Christians embrace in the story of the Christ child sent to earth to save God’s people.
Perhaps I’ll wear them longer this year. Maybe if enough leaders had socks to remind them of why people gifted them with the responsibility of power, we could find our way to some easier level of peace on earth.
To you and yours I send one simple message: If it is not possible to have peace on earth, may we at least live at ease with each other. Pax.