Nuestros Estados Unidos, se encuentran a un mes de unas elecciones que se perfilan a tener consecuencias trascendentales. Pensar que el resultado de las elecciones del 3 de noviembre puede determinarse solo por un poco más de la mitad de la población con capacidad para votar amenaza nuestro concepto de la democracia. Cuando solo un poco más de la mitad de la población elegible vota, no escuchamos la voz del pueblo, a penas escuchamos un susurro.
Our United States stands now one month away from an election of what feels like momentous consequence. To think that the November 3 outcome may be cast by little more than half of our voting population threatens our concept of democracy. When marginally more than half of the age-eligible population votes, we don’t hear the voice of the people, we hear barely more than a whisper.
Life has its valleys and when joy becomes an illusion, Christmas easily intensifies emptiness. That emptiness is expected for, say, widows or widowers, for those in nursing homes or hospitals, but beware the walking wounded. They sit next to us in cubicles or on the bus—smiling every day without sharing the deep, hard realities of their lives—aching inside.
“What does peace mean to you?” A no-brainer, I thought at first. Peace is the absence of war. Simple. End of story. Upon more reflection, however, I realized I had never considered the question.
