Let us not glory in our history, golden though it may be, for the past is finished, cast in concrete, unchangeable. (Yet will come the day when such memory is profitable and should be recited, for the analyzing of accomplishment and the knowing of its structure is of value.) Neither let us wallow in failure’s slough where sour scents may disgust us and where dank reflections may mar our vision.

Rather let us circle our hands about this new moment, this new year, these new opportunities–raw, ethereal, and pliable. Edging beside us, beside each of us, is this splendid fresh day, a pristine journal, multiple dangles of hope that shimmer into the future.

The hands of Another cover ours and steadies our tremble. The mind of Another encapsulates our thinking and settles our apprehension. The arm of the Almighty circles our shoulder, pulls us to Him, and turns us so that our face shines with the glimmer of hope, of faith, of opportunity.

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