November and December (the Christmas shopping season) is extremely busy for my business, so if you haven’t noticed, I have been very quiet lately and that will probably continue until Christmas.
However, I’ve been wanting to share this with you all for a while and thought it might be particularly helpful as we all gather with friends and family today.
As I’ve often stated before, my Dad and most of my family are at various stages of support for Trump…ranging from still a reluctant supporter to full-on MAGA heads. I know that many of you are in the same position and it seems that we are alone against the rest of our family.
This is, of course, compounded on days like Thanksgiving when we are all gathered together.
Leading up to the 2016 election, when it was becoming clear that some of us would remain steadfastly opposed to Trump while so many more were folding to him and the GOP, my Dad, while he himself had decided to be a reluctant Trump voter, recognized my intense struggle with the entire situation.
He sent me this poem….If, by Rudyard Kipling. I had read this poem at other points in my life, but it never really had the same effect on me as it did at that point, especially coming from my Dad. It resonated deeply under the circumstances at the time, and it still does.
I hope it helps you, as well, as you continue to stand strong against the tide.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run—
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
— Rudyard Kipling
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you at TNB! I know that I am extremely thankful for having all of you here who might relate to this poem as I do!