It was now Tuesday night and he hadn’t yet responded, so I was still feeling pretty crummy.
Kat leaned forward. “As the token Jew in the room, can I just say I don’t get offended when I see a Christmas tree in an airport. I like all the decorations, it’s like the entire country goes Liberace for a month.”
“Well, as the token agnostic in the room, can I just say nothing offends me,” Marie added while studying her knitting pattern.
“Nothing that you know of offends you,” Nico corrected with a smirk.
“Ha ha. Very clever.” Marie rolled her eyes.
Sandra poked Marie again. “But don’t you celebrate Christmas?”
“Absolutely. I guess I’m what’s called a “Holitarian.” I’m an equal opportunity holiday celebrator, especially if the holiday or special occasion involves cocktails and presents.”
“I’m thinking of becoming a Buddhist.” Janie held a cold glass of lemonade in her hands, taking frequent sips. “Their respect for life, all lives, appeals to me.”
“I can see you as a Buddhist,” Marie said in such a way that made it sound like she believed religion were an item of clothing or a costume to be tried on and worn on the outside, rather than a deeply held belief.
“Well, as the token southern Baptist in the room, I can confirm that there are some Christians who get irritated about relabeling things as generic that were once Christian-specific. But I suspect that’s because early Christians did the same thing to the pagans as a means to dilute pagan religions and evangelize.”
“That’s right, they did. And it worked.” Marie studied Ashley with a thoughtful frown. “Like Halloween and All Saints Day.”
“Correct.” Ashley nodded once. “And if—no transgression implied to my dear agnostic friend—if Holitarians dilute the meaningfulness of Christmas by making everything generic, then it’s the same thing. Christmas and the traditions around it lose their meaning, so I understand the irritation, even though I don’t think most Christians pay attention to it, having better things to do. But I can also confirm that the media makes a big deal out of it when they should be covering more important issues—like our hungry brethren, and homelessness, and neglected children.”
“I’m going to miss you, Ashley Winston,” Nico said to the hat he was crocheting. “Your perspective is always well researched and well rounded.”
We all paused for a moment, the rhythm of our hands ceasing, because tonight was Ashley’s last evening with us before she moved to Tennessee. The landscape of our group was changing. Over the last two years, Janie, Elizabeth, and Sandra had all gotten married, now Janie was pregnant. Ashley’s move to Tennessee felt like the end of an era.
“It’s because I’m a reader. Readers have open minds; they have to. Otherwise they wouldn’t read. And I’m going to miss you too, Nicoletta.” Ashley gave Nico a small grin. “By this time next week I’ll be Skyping in from Tennessee, surrounded by my degenerate brothers. God help me.”
“Speaking of degenerates, where is Drew tonight?” Nico asked. This question caused a few chuckles because Drew Runous was the least likely of our crowd to be labeled as degenerate. He was the strong and silent type, and he looked like a mountain man. Probably because he was a mountain man.
“He and Alex went to the sporting goods store to look at fishing supplies. I think they’re planning a trip for the summer.”
“I’m not done talking about the last subject,” Sandra chimed in.
“Let it go, Sandra.” Marie had set her knitting aside to help Kat untangle her yarn. “We all know what you’re doing. You’re in denial about Ashley leaving, so you’re trying to change the subject.”
Sandra ignored Marie’s valid analysis of the situation and pointed her knitting needle at Nico. “You’re Catholic, right? What do the Catholics say?”
Nico lifted an eyebrow and regarded Sandra with sparkly eyes. “I’m not the Lorax of Catholics. I don’t speak for the trees of the faithful. That’s why we have the Pope.”
Kat giggled. “The Lorax of Catholics, I like that.”
Sandra squinted at Nico, but her next question was for me. “What about you, Fiona?”
“Fiona is more of a lead-by-example kind of person,” Elizabeth remarked, reaching for her whiskey-spiked hot chocolate.
“Fiona would be a lead-by-example kind of person,” Sandra nodded her agreement, but then added, the problem is, she’s too quiet about it.”
“Isn’t that the point of leading by example?” Kat frowned at her ball of yarn, more of a tangled mass of yarn than a ball.
“Yes, mostly. But if you don’t ever say anything, then how can others follow your example? All the good works get lost in the background noise. I think there are two parts to leading by example: do what you say, and say what you do.”