She is a curious thing, this January. She arrives in the cold quiet of night, with high expectations and low temperatures. In her luggage, she brings promises of warmth, flowers, and sunshine; yet she herself is not any of those things. From her, flow copious tears shed for the past year; the dreams not materialized; the wants and needs unmet. Broken promises large and small trail her, like the torn veil train of a forsaken bride.
Yet, she stands as tall and proud as any, raising a glass of hope and enthusiasm to all in her presence. With the vigor and strength of youth, January casts her spell about; from the shredded fabric of the past she weaves a new garment, a promise of new hope. Like a heroine from a romantic novel, she exudes laughter and joy; the vow of renewal and rebirth.
Let’s join her in a toast: to the First Lady of the New Year!