Meanwhile, deep beneath this winter ground a reliable impulse moves the seasons.  And at the center of these long nights and fleeting days eternal wisdom radiates in the celebrations of people.  Celebrations of dignity surviving enslavement, celebrations of just enough lamp oil, and celebrations of a baby born to an everyday woman — mother and child enduring beacons of faith and essential good will.  Amidst these miracles of change and constancy the season turns and our lives progress.  Here, with the rare Oregon sun whispering through a morning window, I wish you all the best of everything.