During these extended grand-parenting trips to help my daughter and her family move one of the favorite games Grandpa plays with the little ones is Hide and Seek. My granddaughter is very good at the hiding part. She plays for keeps. There were a couple of times we worried we’d lost her.

My grandson on the other hand likes to change the rules mid-game, always to his benefit whether he’s hiding or seeking.
It’s not easy to hide. Especially in plain sight. But that’s what so many have been doing in our country for far too long, pretending that they are as good at hiding as my granddaughter, but hiding the way my grandson does by shifting the rules and lowering the bar to avoid being caught.
Hiding from the reality of what’s happening bears no fruit. Hiding from what needs to happen to bring it to an end yields even less.
There are too many ostriches among us and that needs to change.
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I revisit the piece hoping that things might have changed for the better and that the hard hearted might have taken some of Dickens’ message to heart. Sadly, this year I knew that wasn’t going to be the case. But as I suggest in the piece, that’s true every year. This year it is just more openly apparent. As ingrained as it is in most of Western culture, A Christmas Carol doesn’t seem to have the same power to change hearts that the ghosts Dickens conjured did with old Ebenezer.