We shall find peace. We shall hear the angels. We shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.
--Anton Chekhov
This time of year, as the days shorten and the sun sets far to the south, the dusk comes quickly, in shades of blue and silver. The night sky is velvet black, studded with diamond stars. One of the greatest gifts my mother ever gave me came on such a night. I found her leaning against the kitchen sink, gazing out at the throbbing night sky. "These are the nights when the Wise Men walk," she said in a voice so soft I hardly caught it. In that one sentence, my mother, whose inner workings were mysterious and unspoken, revealed a depth of soul that touched my own. I shall never again see the deep black sky of the holy days, the radiance of the stars, without thinking both of her and of the Wise Men. May the Wise Men walk right into the capitals of this world and establish the peace we have been promised for so long. And may the angels grace your home with their presence, and the Star of guidance shine upon you.
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