New Year: A Dialogue
Something different than Auld Lang Syne
Found in what must have been my great-grandmother’s belongings.
by Ella Wheeler Wilcox circa 1909
Mortal:
“The night is cold, the hour is late, the world is bleak and drear;
Who is it knocking at my door?“
The New Year:
“I am Good Cheer.“
Mortal:
“Your voice is strange; I know you not; in shadows dark I grope.
What seek you here?“
The New Year:
“Friend, let me in; my name is Hope.“
Mortal:
“And mine is Failure; you but mock the life you seek to bless. Pass on.“
The New Year:
“Nay, open wide the door; I am Success.“
Mortal:
“But I am ill and spent with pain; too late has come your wealth. I cannot use it.“
The New Year:
“Listen, friend; I am Good Health.“
Mortal:
“Now, wide I fling my door. Come in, and your fair statements prove.“
The New Year:
“But you must open, too, your heart, for I am Love.“
I did not even make it to 10PM and conked out. Couple of us in the house are catching cold. I turned on a movie and had a Wild Turkey on ice with lemon rubbed on the mouth of the glass. Son heads back to Ft. Jackson in a couple days, although we made to the gun range together three times. Daughter will be back to engineering study and flight lessons in a few weeks. Wife is very crafty and always making something unique. I am refinishing wood work, refinishing a couple pieces of furniture in the garage. I think I am following Dad’s footsteps in that in the last two decades of life fixed everything in the house, refinished wood work and prepared for the day he could no longer do it.