November Days

Sunday was sunny and breezy, and every breeze blew a shower of brown leaves off the willow oak standing in the yard of the house across the street. The tree rained its acorns a week earlier. I stood on my porch and listened as acorns thudded on the roof and dinged off the awnings of the house below the tree. The tree’s yard has a blanket of brown leaves, and every breeze helps spread those leaves across the street and into my and my neighbors’ yards.

The street’s gutters are full of crisp, brown and yellow leaves. Sometimes a strong breeze marches them in straight lines across my yard, and sometimes a small whirlwind will pick up the leaves and spin them in the afternoon sunbeams like a luminous dust devil – a devil made of leaves instead of dust. It’s a harbinger of cold weather which will be here soon and a reminder of things that come with cold weather: holiday rituals, fire in the fireplace, hot apple cider with cinnamon and nutmeg (and maybe a hint of rum), hot soup on cold days, starry skies on cold nights, snow falling silently over city and countryside.

I’ve  been watching the TV news reports about those poor people in the Philippines, and I was reminded how fortunate I am to be here in central Virginia, in a house with food and water, with a roof over my head, protection from the weather, a car that can travel open streets to stores stocked with food, clothing, and anything else I may need, and doctors and clinics ready to help me should I need help. Hundreds of thousands of Filipino people have none of those things now. They wander like lost souls, hungry, thirsty, wounded, owning only the clothes they wear. Many have lost their families and have nowhere to go. They meander amidst miles of death and destruction where once stood homes, shops, theaters, office buildings, parking garages. They’ve suffered a calamity so great that the agencies struggling to help them are overwhelmed. “Help us now,” they plead. And indeed, it is now, not tomorrow, when help is so urgently needed. But for many, help will arrive too late.

In America, Thanksgiving Day is 16 days away. Amidst the grumbling, bickering, blaming, and criticizing we read in news media and hear on TV, most Americans must know their problems are mere inconveniences compared to the real misfortunes that exist in the world. We need not wait for Thanksgiving Day to ponder, and be thankful for, the good things that Providence, or destiny, or chance, has provided us. It is unwise to take those things for granted.