Dear Friends, 

Just yesterday, I was writing a holiday greeting card, and I found myself unable to write the word, "Merry."  How can any of us be merry in the wake of the terrible slaughter of innocents that we, as a nation, have just witnessed?  In a few days, I will be driving to and from New York.  I will be driving right past Newtown, Connecticut.  Previously, I might not have noticed.  Now, I certainly will.  

My hope -- which I'm sure is shared by many of us -- is that the families torn apart by this disaster will receive the help and comfort that they need. Fortunately, there has been a tremendous outpouring of love and support. Many Americans -- from our "hewers of wood" and "drawers of water" to our eloquent President -- have reached out. I hope that this helps the community of Newtown feel that they are not alone. 

But I also hope that we will look back at this event not only as the occasion of a terrible tragedy -- an American tragedy -- but also as a turning point in our nation.  Perhaps this will be the moment when we realize that we can and should do something to diminish the the likelihood that an event such as this will occur again.  As Abraham Joshua Heschel once said, "In a free society, some are guilty but all are responsible."  We have to live up to our responsibility.  To do nothing, to "stand idly by," would be irresponsible and shameful.  

Sincerely, 

"Dirge Without Music"

BY EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.

So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned

With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.

Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.

A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,

A formula, a phrase remains,-but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love,-

They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled

Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.

More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;

Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.