What’s This New Domesticity Movement?

 

Emily Matchar in her book Homeward Bound: Why Women are Embracing the New Domesticity says this movement “relates to our growing disenchantment with the mainstream workplace, which has failed young people, mothers, and families in so many ways.”

Complaints about “work/life balance” and “antifamily policies” surfaced after women entered the workforce in large numbers. Matcher’s book addresses these issues. As I read her book, I asked: What was so great about the workplace for men before women joined it? Isn’t it important for men to have a work/life balance, too? Singles as well as marrieds? Families and also childless couples? What about the retired, with more relaxed schedules but still with skills to share?

Matchar calls on men as well as women to change. “We need to make sure that the rallying cry of ‘take back the home’ is shouted just as loudly by men as by women.”

Should a career dictate our consuming interest in life?  Men and women live longer than in generations past. We have more years for both careers and other pursuits. Why should all our years from young adulthood to sixty-five be given over to careers? Why should the population then be divided into “career” and “retired”? Why does consumption so rule our lives, guaranteeing that most adults must work full-time to sustain it?

Perhaps we could encourage a less materialistic model which allows dropping out occasionally to focus on children or schooling or creative pursuits or civic work or taking a sabbatical in a monastery or the deliberate choice of part time work for several years.

How about a new dialog blending domesticity (community?) and career for all of us?

War-War or Jaw-Jaw?

 

Acording to The New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman, not everything that happens in the Middle East is about us. At some point the region has to grow up.

We no longer have the desire nor the means to do the heavy lifting, not to mention that our past military excursions there have shown mixed results, at best. The possibility that the United States might bomb Syria if Assad didn’t give up chemical weapons was hugely unpopular in this country. A couple of decades or so ago, pictures of children dying of starvation in Somalia led us to intervene militarily in that country—disastrously. Today, even images of grotesque deaths from chemical warfare do not move us to consider similar actions.

Friedman’s column suggests that a lack of pluralism plagues the Middle East. The region will be forever convulsed, he says, unless it embraces diversity. The Iraqi Shiites have to allow Iraqi Sunnis to be part of the power structure, as well as other minorities.

When the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt overplayed its hand by trying to turn a fairly secular nation into an Islamic republic, people revolted. Now the military may be doing the same thing in reverse by persecuting the Islamists.

Don’t even begin with the Syrians: each group appears to lust after the annihilation of the others.

Perhaps when enough blood has been shed, the principals will no longer confuse governance with religion. They may reach that stage sooner if we stay engaged and provide opportunity to change from “war war” to “jaw jaw.” Winston Churchill coined this phrase during the time of another seemingly endless confrontation called the Cold War.

Minimum Wage at Ten Dollars Plus Per Hour? Fifteen Dollars?

 

SeaTac, Washington, the town surrounding Seattle/Tacoma’s main airport, recently passed legislation increasing the minimum wage to fifteen dollars an hour. (The state of Washington already has the highest minimum wage in the country at $9.32.) Politicians, economists, and entrepreneurs are scrutinizing the results. What will the increase do to the economy, to workers, to businesses?

Some rally around the measure, saying that even low income jobs should pay a living wage. Some want a higher minimum wage, but not that high. President Obama has called for $10.10 per hour. Some want a gradual wage increase, some all at once, as in SeaTac.

Some suggest that a higher wage, mostly falling into the hands of the less well-off, will boost our economy. Since this population normally is able to spend only for essentials, they will spend almost all of it.

Others say businesses, especially small ones, won’t be able to absorb the costs and will go bankrupt, causing job losses. (Many proposals exclude small businesses, although critics say if some companies offer higher wages, all must do the same to retain workers.)

Others argue that the government pays other costs for inadequate wages. These include medical expenses or subsidized health insurance (low-wage workers often cannot afford health insurance without government aid), food stamps (most low wage workers aren’t single teenagers; many have families to support), and other benefits. These government expenses would be less, the argument goes, if the workers were paid more and had benefits. Some suggest, in fact, that taxpayers subsidize businesses that do not provide adequate salary or benefits.

Washington state, with the aforementioned highest minimum wage in the nation, had an unemployment rate of 6.6 as of January 28, 2014, about the same as the nation. Some states are lower, some higher. Some with lower rates are benefitting from labor scarcity caused by the resource boom in states like North Dakota. Minimum wage appears to influence but is not the sole factor in unemployment or employment.

Part of the problem is what is tagged the “hollowing out” of the middle class, because mid level jobs are more and more being performed by computers. If our job structure is permanently changing, perhaps we should ask ourselves first: what is fair? We are speaking of workers, not the jobless. What is the minimum wage supposed to cover? If middle paying jobs are decreasing, what is fair for low wage workers who increasingly come from the former middle class?

Genreless Genres?

 

Genre, so my Oxford English Dictionary defines it, is “a style or category of art or literature.” Genre novels are classified as romance, mystery, science fiction, suspense, crime, political, and so on.

A number of acclaimed authors write novels not easily categorized as to genre, like Jodi Picoult.  In an article in Writer’s Digest, Picoult said her genre is the very lack of one. She writes on diverse subjects. Often the subjects have to do with social or moral problems.

Piccoult is tagged by some as a “commercial” writer, by others as a “literary” writer. Supposedly, commercial writing is more dependent on plot and easily fits into a genre category, while literary writing is more dependent on character.

Some authors now write novels that classify in more than one genre: romance/mystery or political/suspense. Some go even further, mixing genre and literary, like a novel I saw tagged as a “literary mystery.” The phrase “upmarket fiction” has been coined to describe character-driven fiction that appeals to a large audience.

What about “Christian” fiction? Obviously, it isn’t itself a genre since it includes many genres: romance, science fiction, mystery, crime and others. What qualifies a book as Christian? Is it a story in which one or more of the protagonists self-designates himself or herself as a Christian? Does it, then, include classics like The Brothers Karamazov?

While the whole publishing industry is roiled by ebooks and digital formats, the genre category also is up for grabs.

Market Forces and Good Works

 

The phenomenon of secular interests taking over “good works” from religious groups has gone on for centuries. Once governments understood the benefits of an educated population, for example, they began taking over the education function from religious institutions for much of the population, offering free schooling for all children. Social security and other programs that aid the less well-off have increased consumer purchasing power when citizens were lifted out of poverty, gaining favor with some economists.

Now corporations have entered the picture.

“Philanthropy Meets the Market,” an article in The World in 2014, published by The Economist, predicts that corporations will invest more in goods works, such as improving water quality. From enlightened self-interest, certain corporations (i.e., soft drink companies) understand that world markets must have access to safe water. As populations grow and use more water not only for drinking but for agriculture, water supplies become endangered. Corporations now pay for activities like digging wells for fresh water. Until recently, charitable and religious groups led in this kind of work.

Those who wish to do good, however, expect to find plenty to do. No doubt enough need exists to keep all comers busy for some time.

Saving Mr. Banks, Fiction But Real

 

The movie Saving Mr. Banks isn’t your typical Hollywood movie of recent times. The movie has no violence or explicit sexual scenes. No one is tortured or blown up or chased by bad people.

It even begins with a flashback. The flashback has no exciting “inciting incidents,” merely a little girl and her father playing an imaginary game in an Australian park.

Saving Mr. Banks is loosely based on the making of the popular movie Mary Poppins by Walt Disney. That movie, in turn, was based on books by Pamela Lyndon Travers. According to accounts of Travers’ actual relationship with the making of the movie, she remained disappointed with Mary Poppins. Thus, a great part of Saving Mr. Banks, it would seem, is fiction. Nevertheless, like all good fiction, it draws us in and gives us insight.

As movies go these days, it begins slowly. We are taken in by the characters and the choices they make, some heartbreaking. We see Travers’ father, a bank employee, unable to overcome his alcoholism, humiliating his family, finally dying too young and unable to keep his promise to his daughter to “never leave her.”

Walt Disney’s own severe childhood is counterpart to the tragedy of the author. His playful films are his answer. He overcame severity by clinging to his gift of whimsy and using it to bring a bit of fun to the world. Suffering is redeemed in part.

Seemingly unsuccessful people may do good things for their children that live on.The work-driven Mr. Banks of Mary Poppins, the audience is given to understand, carries a piece of Travers’ father. Mr. Banks does love his children. This Victorian father is even capable, finally, of flying kites with them.

Working Less In Order to Work More?

 

A report from the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office predicts that the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) may result in some Americans choosing to work less. According to the report, they may choose to work less (meaning, presumably, in paid employment) because they don’t have to remain in a job solely to gain health insurance. The report raises interesting questions.

First, why have we allowed health insurance to be tied to jobs? This results in unenthusiastic workers who can’t change to jobs more suitable to their interests. Corporations also must compete on the world market with corporations from Europe and other countries who don’t need to pay for this insurance because their governments provide it.

Second, why is health care so expensive in the United States? Canada and other advanced countries have, studies indicate, healthier populations than the U.S., but at less cost. Apparently, many Americans could afford to work less at paying jobs if they were guaranteed insurance for unexpected medical expenses.(Obviously, the working poor need all the work they can find.)

Third, why will workers supposedly work less? Do they plan to watch more TV in their extra hours? Or do some wish to spend more time with their children? Or take care of elderly parents? Or engage in civic or charitable work? Or experiment with a business of their own? Or write a novel?

Since the beginning of the industrial revolution, work has narrowed to fit one pattern for men and eventually for women who entered the labor force in increasing numbers. Everyone works a certain number of hours per week, period. Special arrangements have to be made for sickness, family emergencies, time off to explore other interests, or extreme weather.

The changes in health insurance could present an opportunity to define new work patterns. Such patterns might allow Americans flexible work schedules and hours more suited to individual goals and the unpredictable world they live in.

Big Boxless Theater

 

Before we moved to our small town, I thought all movies were now the big box kind. You buy your ticket from a nameless receptionist and find your way to the slice of the box for the movie you have chosen. You stumble among the seats in the three-quarter darkness to an empty one, trying to avoid stepping on toes. You listen to screen advertisements for ten minutes or so, depending on how early you made it to the show.

Then we moved here and discovered the leftover, pre-World War II theater on our town’s main street. It was built in 1937. In spite of resembling something a Soviet collective might have created, it’s one of the community’s beloved icons.

Before the show, we line up outside and take our place, carrying on conversations with those we know. We greet the ticket seller and perhaps nod to the movie’s owners, who often stand by to open the door. We might buy refreshments from the stand squeezed into an alcove just before we enter the viewing area.

Since we have only one movie, the lights remain on until show time. We greet friends and neighbors, maybe carrying around our popcorn to walk the aisle and check on who’s here. A few people stare at cells or tablets but most talk or observe. No reason to shush anyone. As the proprietors of the theater point out, it’s noisy, a community kind of noise. If somebody is celebrating a birthday, friends make it known with the appropriate song.

Once in a while, the owners invite a local musician to play a violin or to sing before the movie begins.

The lights dim. We hush. The previews flash by, then the movie. When it’s over, we may stay and watch the credits, discussing the story. Then we slowly line up and crowd out, still talking with friends.

Some of us living close by walk home. The line of cars for everyone else lets those checking the streets from a window to pretty much guess what time it is. The movie’s over for another evening.

That’s community in a big boxless society.

Border Crossings

 

My husband and I surveyed the beautiful Inner Harbor in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, a few weeks ago and explored it for hours. We had arrived from our home in Washington state, taking an hour-and-a-half ferry ride across the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

An American walking around Victoria feels at home. Many stores and hotels accept U.S. money, though they may return Canadian change. Other differences strike the observer: more recycling, subtle accents, and metric distances and weights.

I once attended a business luncheon in Montreal that showcased economic ties between Canada and the U.S. An American businessman commented on the similarities between the two countries. He didn’t think of Canadians and Americans as all that different, he said.

Mistake, I thought. Canadians generally consider themselves quite different from their neighbors to the south and sometimes resent our taking them for granted. The differences range from stricter control of guns to what they consider as less arrogance in world affairs.

The border that we crossed to reach British Columbia is one of the friendliest in the world. It is still a border. Much has changed since the 1990’s, when I lived in Montreal and would cross on holidays into New York. The agent at the small border post greeted me with a “hello, how are you, ma’am,” and the briefest of glances at my passport. In those days, an American didn’t even need a passport following short stays in Canada.

In 1999, an Algerian,  Ahmed Ressam was arrested coming into the United States from Canada with a trunk of explosives. He later said he planned to bomb the Los Angeles airport. Ressam was arrested at our own point of departure for Victoria—Port Angeles, Washington.

The aura of peace and frontier isolation as one looks from the small town of Port Angeles to the snowy peaks of the Olympics was shattered that day. Now American citizens must have a passport or other enhanced documentation when they return into the United States from Canada.

Failed States

 

After two wars, Americans are exhausted financially and morally. We have pulled out of Iraq completely and are drawing down from Afghanistan. Though Iraq technically was not a failed state, at least not until we entered it, our involvement there appears part of our desire to change regimes and rebuild nations.

Michael J. Mazarr wrote an article in Foreign Affairs discussing our involvement with “failed states.” (“The Rise and Fall of the Failed-State Paradigm; Requiem for a Decade of Distraction,” Foreign Affairs, January-February 2014.)

At the conclusion of the Great Power struggles of the Cold War, we confronted the “non-state” terrorist. Our entry in the 1990’s into Somalia and our intervention in other failed states since then came about, Mazarr suggests, because we wanted to cut the poverty and corruption out of which terrorists come.

Certainly, many terrorists come from failed economies and societies. The leaders, however, are more likely to emerge from a fairly well-off middle class. Often they are incensed at government corruption or at decadent habits (pornography, broken homes, etc.) that they perceive as drifting in from Western cultures.

In the current world scene, the United States is unlikely to engage in invasions of other countries or to become embroiled in land wars, because we perceive that these policies haven’t worked. Should we than turn our backs on violent human rights abuses, as is happening in Syria?

Perhaps we should choose a more patient path. That includes working with other nations in painstaking efforts to build trust between enemies. Efforts include talks that seem endless—in other words, in tasks that may continue into our grandchildren’s time. But sometimes if we stand in the wings, we can take advantage of war weariness to find workable solutions. We have to be present. We do not have to invade.

We Are No Longer the World’s Greatest Polluter

 

China has overtaken the United States in pollution levels. We are no longer the world’s greatest atmospheric polluter. Chinese cities recently have suffered dangerous levels of smog. China is discovering a darker side to becoming the world’s second greatest economic power.

A half century and more ago, some cities in the United States suffered smog equal to what China is experiencing now. In 1948, toxic smog from industries in Donora, Pennsylvania, is reported to have killed twenty people and left thousands sickened. Concern over air pollution grew and eventually led to the Federal Air Pollution Control Act of 1955. This was the first national law designed to improve air quality. This and other legislation means that the U.S. continues to lead the world in most economic spheres but not in pollution.

We still are the world’s second greatest polluter. Interestingly, the Chinese now seek leadership in another area of development. They are investing in what is called “green” technology, that is, technology which encourages growth with less pollution.

A race to develop green technology is blessedly different from an arms race. If we invest in such technologies in this country, we might continue to lead the world economically without the scourge of pollution. In addition, the development of sustainable energy would lessen our dependence on unstable parts of the world for fossil fuels, an added benefit.

Homeless Diversity

 
Several years ago I saw a play about homelessness—produced by homeless individuals. Listening to them speak, I realized “the homeless” are a diverse population, no more the same than all teenagers or college students or senior citizens are the same.

The play revealed at least four reasons people are homeless, though the list isn’t exhaustive. It was meant to start us thinking.

Some homeless people abuse alcohol and other drugs, which prevent them from finding and holding jobs and becoming responsible members of society.

Some are hard working but make poor decisions. They spend salaries too freely and don’t save when they earn money beyond the essentials. They fall prey to shysters who promise easy money. They buy housing beyond what they can afford, then can’t keep up payments—especially when caught in a recession not of their own making.

Some manage their lives and income fairly well but can’t find low cost housing to match their minimum wage jobs, especially if they have families.

Others become homeless through circumstances beyond anyone’s control, like an illness or accident or disappearing jobs in a recession.

Obviously, different reasons for homelessness call for different solutions: low cost housing; substance abuse programs; counseling for those who abuse money rather than drugs; jobs that pay adequately—to scratch the surface.

The homeless are us, making choices any of us might make given certain circumstances: abusive homes, irresponsible families, lost jobs, medical illness, physical or mental handicaps, inadequate education, terrible personal adversity. Some will always struggle, requiring tough love and continuing commitment from those who would help them. Others can find their own way if given better housing or job training or decent wages or medical attention. We don’t all have to be social workers to help. A responsive, caring community does require us to be aware of the need, willing to give even a small boost to those community programs which we judge most helpful.

Marriage? Who Would Have Thought?

Kathleen Parker, in a column for The Washington Post, (“To Defeat Poverty, Look to Marriage,” January 14, 2014) points to marriage as a poverty fighting measure.

Others weigh in. Jerry Z. Muller in his article “Capitalism and Inequality; What the Right and the Left Get Wrong” (Foreign Affairs, March/April 2013) writes: “Abundant research shows that children raised by two parents in an ongoing union are more likely to develop the self-discipline and self-confidence that make for success in life . . .” He cites quickness of mind, character, social skills, and knowledge as products of such upbringing. All, Muller says, “are increasingly crucial for success in the postindustrial marketplace.”

Children as emotional capital? Have we returned to a model recently ignored in our modernizing West?

We should not down play measures that improve schools and encourage jobs that pay a living wage. Such programs, however, require political agreement and compromise. Marriage is a personal choice.

The bottom line for those who think in terms of dollars and cents: Successful families strengthen society; dysfunctional families weaken it.

Why Do Older Adults Read Young Adult Books?

 
Young adult books have seen phenomenal growth since the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. These books aren’t just read by young adults but older adults as well. Analysts are asking why.

One reason, they say, is to read them along with their children.

Other reasons? Maybe some crave a literature that doesn’t include the explicit sexual scenes found increasingly in “adult” fiction. Maybe they wish to escape the darker novels that predominate today.

Is such reading an escape from reality? We all know, surely, that the good guys don’t always win in this world. We know the innocent sometimes suffer and end their lives still suffering.

Fairy tales don’t happen in real life, we say. And so they don’t, but sometimes the lessons found in them do. People like Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King, Jr. and multitudes of others not so well known show us the necessity for hope in a less than perfect world. We need hope as well as reality, perhaps a little “redeeming” value.

Farewell, Big Brother

 

He was seven years older than I, so I knew him my whole life. I never remember his showing the slightest bit of jealousy for my coming along and knocking him out of his position of only child.

We did fight in my youngest days, I the bratty kid sister who followed him around. Once I threw something at him, and he had the good sense to duck behind his bedroom door. I believe the dent remains in the door to this day where my missile hit it.

We were together in the same school only one year, when he was in the eighth grade and I in the first. The winter was especially frigid that year. One particularly cold day, we first graders were allowed to take our small chairs and gather in the front of the warmer eighth grade room. My nose was running, and I had no handkerchief. I saw my brother go to his teacher and say something. Then he brought me a tissue.

Our father died when I was thirteen and my brother in college. As we grew older we became friends, kindred souls, if you will. We could meet after months, even years apart, and begin talking immediately about things that were important to us.

We married and had children who became friends. He and his wife Nancy saw me through a divorce. They accepted my wanderlust that took me to accept work in the Middle East, even as a war began there. They welcomed my remarriage. Our mother died, then his beloved Nancy. He continued working. He taught a Bible study class in our childhood church.

This past Monday afternoon, I called to check on him. He sounded good, said he had slept well the night before. Despite the brutal cold in Nashville, he had gone in to work to keep a business appointment that morning. He was enjoying laying back in his easy chair in the living room, he said, keeping warm. We said we loved each other, the way we always ended our telephone conversations.

A friend came to check the next day when he didn’t answer the phone. He had died in the night, peacefully it seems, still sitting in the easy chair.

Thank You, Lord, for my big brother. May I be as much of a blessing to others as he was to me. For the first time in this life, I will be without him.

Sanity in a Connected World

 

Cell phones, email, and constant news updates proclaim the digital world. In contrast, a farmer in rural Tennessee in the early part of the twentieth century recalled hearing of President McKinley’s assassination weeks after it happened.

In this second decade of the twenty-first century we are instantly bombarded with the tragedy of tornadoes, hurricanes, and volcano eruptions as well as terrorist attacks, mall shootings, and the actions of drunken drivers. If we do not exercise control over this deluge, it will control us. On one hand, we may become despondent and feel hopeless. Or we may become so used to suffering, that it no longer bothers us.

How control? Basically, by controlling the time we spend on them. An article in The Seattle Times by Ricardo Gomez, a professor at the University of Washington, and a recent graduate, Stacey Morrison, suggested that some are pushing back against the technology that binds them.

They state: “If we fail to make our own informed choices about use of technology, technology will make the decisions for us. . . . We can each take a stance. There’s no need to go cold turkey and drop out entirely . . . we can all do a better job at managing our use of technology to reclaim control over our time, our relationships and our daily lives.”

Bookshelves Cleanup: I Give Up

I couldn’t fit any more books into my bookshelves. The time had come to clean them out.

I buy a lot of digital books now, but I continue to buy books I really like in print format. I keep thinking of the ones I want to pass down to my children, not to mention how I’ll need print books if the electricity grid goes out or fries my Kindle collection or whatever.

The print books included old textbooks, outdated reference books, travel guides from overseas places where I had lived or visited and would never see again, and novels from the three book clubs I belong to.

After weeks of sorting, I got rid of the outdated textbooks, some of the ancient references, and a few book club novels that I absolutely hated. Most of my collection remained. I can read old favorites for the rest of my life. I’ll save them for the time I don’t have anything to read. (LOL)

I constantly refer to classics, poetry, books pertaining to my spiritual journey, background for current events in my blogs, the novels I write, and so on. So I saved those.

I threw out some non-book junk and made more room.

The shelves are still crammed, but a bit of space remains for new purchases. I’ve promised myself that if I know when I’m going to die and am still functioning, I’ll really clean them out then. I certainly don’t want to ever be bookless.

Gabe Habash in Publishers Weekly discusses his problem of too many books.

Boomer Recessional

 

The baby boom changed every age group it passed through because it was so large. Now the last baby boomers are passing through their forties, and the vanguard are retiring. Social services for the elderly are a major topic in analytical articles. How will we pay for their medical needs? How much of the national budget will go for social security?

Other issues relate to the gap in experience left by the Boomers’ retirement. Much expertise will walk out the door when they leave. Boomer numbers insure that they will be a force to be reckoned with for a while longer.

However, the current age that includes the Arab Spring, Wikipedia, and Facebook tinges the decades of the sixties and seventies with a sepia patina of nostalgia. In comparison with the changes since the beginning of the twenty-first century, the baby boomers’ time on stage appears almost innocent.

The Soviet empire, so easily identified as our enemy, is gone, replaced by an amorphous al-Qaeda and its offshoots. Organized religion is challenged by the “nones.” The booming suburbs are replaced by underwater mortgages and the resurgence of downtown living.

The children of the Boomers are not as child centered. Some wonder if they will even replace themselves.

The Boomer generation, so confident that their numbers would prevail in the ideological struggle with their parents’ world, is fading. We are still assessing the confused times they leave behind.

Place Lovers

 

We are creatures of place. In novels and movies, the setting of the story can prove as important as any character: the Russian Jewish community of Fiddler on the Roof, or Gilead’s Iowa religious setting, or Flannery O’Conner’s southern gothic background in her short stories. We are shaped by place, even in this era of generic fast food restaurants and blockbuster movies.

Place is felt strongly by the displaced. The first who felt it were the native Americans in the United States who were displaced by European settlers. The English who left homes in the British Isles for America experienced their own displacement as they tried to make early colonial America a subset of their former home. Germans moved in among the English-speaking communities. Jewish, Irish, Polish, and Italian immigrants arrived. The descendants of freed slaves moved north after the Civil War. Southern whites dealt with an increasingly changed landscape. Asians, Hispanics, free Africans, and Caribbean islanders came. Recently, Southeast Asians and Middle Easterners have wandered in.

Love of the old place, left behind family, and foreign heritage compete with attachment to the new place. Volumes have been written about the hybrid-American young adult seeking identity between two cultures.

Both old and new communities lay obligations on us. Americans of long duration in this country do well to recognize the gifts that newcomers bring, from the crop picker to the Ph.D. engineer. Newly-naturalized Americans retain pride in former cultures yet owe an allegiance to this country that supercedes allegiance to the old.

Not so much a bland melting pot as a rich-hued tapestry, somber tones alternating with cheerful ones.

Our Un-Wired Christmas

 

A huge storm a few years ago plunged much of Washington State’s Puget Sound region into electronic deprivation just before Christmas. My husband and I, along with the small island community where we live, faced the third of three nights without power, just before our church’s Christmas concert.

Word was passed that the concert would take place as planned. My husband and I walked to the church through dark and hushed streets in an atmosphere in tune with the real event in Bethlehem. The church had no heat, but no matter. The community packed the sanctuary and sat close together in parkas, stocking caps, gloves, and lap robes (like gatherings in earlier churches, I imagine).

A small generator provided a single light for performers. The choir sang as joyously as ever, accompanied only by the piano. The bell choir needed no electronic aid. The accomplished soloist and the cellist lifted us from ordinary lives.

I have seldom seen an audience so touched, so appreciative. When the concert ended, no one moved for several moments. We did not want to leave but finally made our way back to our darkened homes.

The next day, Sunday, power remained a distant dream. Still in our winter garb, we trooped back to church and watched the children’s Christmas pageant. After the service we gathered in the fellowship hall for the children’s “birthday to Jesus” party.

The candles were lit on the birthday cake, appropriately iced with the words “Happy Birthday to Jesus.” As we sang “happy birthday, dear Jesus.” my husband looked up and pointed. The electric lights had just flashed on. Not that we needed them now. We’d celebrated the season without them, thank you very much.

Come to think of it, the angels didn’t announce the birth of God’s son over the Internet. The three kings didn’t send gift certificates by email. Joseph didn’t even have a flashlight to guide him in assisting his young wife with the birth of her first child or modern plumbing for washing up.

Christmas came anyway.