By the time you read this, the official New Year’s Celebration will be over. In a few days, you will settle into living out 2026. Despite the tired bodies, crumpled gift wrappings, and food dishes stashed, joy remains. Even when tacit moments sing, happy memories of festive occasions may now seem distant. Even if grief hangs heavy like a cold, clingy covering, part of that grief holds residual recalled moments when joy bubbled, adding to our mirth from memories of long ago.
The favored New Year’s anthem, “Auld Lang Syne,” is a Scottish folk song by Robert Burns. Far be it from me to attempt hermeneutics on Brother Burns. But suffice it to say that it calls forth friendships formed close enough to linger long in memory and distance. I do not know if there is any relationship between the January desire to hold onto friendships that only memories hold, and the February emphasis on New Love — a la Cupid! One could stretch the thread of this argument into the newness found in Springtime soon to come.
While chasing the “new” should not always dominate one’s path, “new” can have its advantages. New-fallen snow can help cover the landscape’s or streetscape’s ugliness. New rainfall can not only wash away dross but bring refreshing nourishment to plants and other living things. New relationships, new ventures, and new opportunities can bring refreshing diversity to the life of a person or community.
As I write this, I must confess that I am also sending a message to myself. I have not always been one who embraced change enthusiastically. I first noticed this when I entered high school. I transitioned from eighth- grade Deepstep Elementary School (14 students) to attend the ninth grade at high school with sixty-nine students in town. I resisted — almost didn’t get on the bus. I fearfully adapted to “changing classes” in my new high school.
Ever since then, I have faced newness of change; sometimes in fear and trembling, and sometimes like an excited child rushing to the Christmas tree with expectations growing that “the authentic Lionel train” set that spews fake smoke would be there! Through most occasions, I have grown; sometimes intellectually, and sometimes in bravery.
Sometimes I grew despite my reluctance, like a Pine nut, struggling to break through a granite crevice on Stone Mountain’s windy slope. In virtually every challenge, I can look back and say, “Wow! What a ride!”
©Copyright 2026 Willis H. Moore
Happy New Year my friend.