-Tarpeh L. U-sayee, Jr.
What kind of life is this,
that when we entered the world as helpless infants,
our only language was a cry—
a cry that summoned love, attention, and care?
A cry that said, I am hungry,
I am cold, Something is wrong—please help me.
What kind of life is this,
that as we grow into men and women,
those same cries are no longer welcomed,
and the world demands silence, strength, and endurance?
We are told to be mature,
to stop complaining,
to carry our burdens alone,
even when the weight is heavy on the soul.
What kind of life is this,
that survival itself becomes a daily battle—
a fight for education in systems that are unequal,
a struggle for decent food in times of scarcity,
a pursuit of housing in an unforgiving economy,
a search for medication when sickness strikes,
and a constant demand for leadership
that is just, honest, and compassionate?
What kind of life is this,
that our labor no longer guarantees security, and our salaries cannot meet both our needs and our responsibilities? We work harder, yet have less, and dreams are postponed in the name of mere survival.
What kind of life is this,
that even nature reflects the struggle—
plants breaking through hardened ground to live,
animals fighting daily for food and safety—
as though existence itself
is governed by resistance and pain?
What kind of life is this,
where lies are rewarded,
truth is inconvenient,
and integrity often walks alone?
Where deception wears fine clothing,
and honesty is treated as weakness?
What kind of life is this,
that in old age we return to dependence—
the strong becoming fragile,
the wise becoming vulnerable,
the once-independent now needing care,
patience, and mercy once again?
What kind of life is this,
where the world changes every day around us—
technology, values, systems, and norms—
sometimes without our consent,
sometimes without our understanding?
What kind of life is this, that even death appears restless, unceasing in its assignment, moving without joy, without pause, without mercy?
What kind of life is this,
that the body grows weary with time,
pain replaces strength,
and age reminds us
that we are dust
and passing shadows?
Yet in the midst of all this—
Christmas speaks.
It declares that this life,
though broken and unjust,
was not abandoned.
That God Himself entered our struggle,
wrapped in flesh,
born into poverty,
rejected, misunderstood,
and acquainted with pain.
Christmas tells us
that hope was not destroyed,
love was not defeated,
and light still shines in darkness.
So this life—
with all its questions,
its suffering,
its uncertainty—
still carries meaning, because God chose to walk it with us.
Merry Christmas
May peace finds your heart,
strength renew your spirit,
and hope guide your days.
