I Wept.

I Wept.

During last Sunday’s pageant service, I wept.

I wept before the service began as I scanned the small in-person crowd and the larger Zoom one, random memories and images of years past flashing through my mind.

I wept as I began speaking to welcome everyone—we had overcome myriad challenges to get to that moment, and it was such a relief!

I wept as the pageant players appeared on stage—tears of laughter as The Star arrived.

I wept in speaking joys and sorrows, as we celebrated so much love and grief and hope and loss.

I wept as we sang Silent Night, room dim and (electric) candles illuminated.

I wept as I recited the words of Howard Thurman, such a humble and timeless reminder about the ongoing “work” of Christmas.

And I’ve wept a lot since Sunday, too—in a tense (but beautifully resolved) conversation with a family member; with frustration over political obstructions; in sadness as I read news and personal stories about how this phase of the Covid-19 pandemic is disrupting long-awaited reunions and much-beloved Christmas Eve rituals; with worry for the well-being of our children’s educators and our healthcare workers; with sober joy as members of our Buy Nothing group have responded with generosity to a single mother who asked for help.

I love these tears. I am not distressed by them. They are tears of laughter, of exhaustion, of worry, of grief, and of a deep and wondrous sense of awe about the extraordinary and ordinary ways that we are a community together.

And I cherish all that these tears represent—the memories, the stories, the wisdom, the people (you) that I love and cherish so much.

Bless you, UUCC. I love you.


Thank you for your encouragement and support as the paid staff enjoys a much-needed break next week. I hope you also enjoy some restorative time in the coming days. I’ll see you in the new year.


  1. Stuart TenHoor

    Paige: I thought I noticed that during the service (somehow amazingly able to happen through a tech team member’s phone hot-spot supplying internet to us all like arteries do for a heart).

    There’s a lot to weep about and I’m not going to try to minimize that…because we all feel it, even those most able to compartmentalize. But we’ve got each other–to be supported by and to support–and we appreciate your spirit and posts and for showing up to provide a beating heart for us to draw sustenance from; and we thank you.

  2. Becky Pfau

    Yes, I echo Stuart, Phyllis and Elaine’s comments. We are sustaining each other in these times. Thank you. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to us all!

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