December 24, 2020
Christmas Eve feels different this year. Quieter, for sure. More melancholy, perhaps. Yet, despite the absence of family for the first time I can remember, the joy of Christmas remains. That joy is wrapped up in the spirit of anticipation and hopefulness. Anticipation that 2021 will bring better days. And hope that the end of this pandemic is near, as vaccines make their way to the general public.
Meanwhile, the report from ADPH today is sadly familiar - 4,232 cases (incl. 1,052 probables) and 11,330 tests. Our positivity rate remains stuck between 36% and 40%, depending on which tracking service you follow. There were 89 more deaths reported today, following 135 yesterday. According to the Washington Post, COVID deaths in Alabama have increased 94% over the last 7 days, elevating the State to 9th in the nation in per capita deaths over the past week.
As Americans prepare to celebrate Christmas, more people are hospitalized than at any other point during the pandemic. More than 119,500 COVID patients nationwide were receiving inpatient treatment as of Wednesday, the second consecutive record-setting day. In Alabama, 2,542 statewide inpatients were reported by 103 hospitals, virtually all of whom will remain hospitalized on Christmas Day.
In case you are wondering, there are over 1,000 confirmed active cases in Bethlehem, according to officials there, although unofficial estimates are much higher. The Palestinian Health Ministry has reported that all intensive care beds in Bethlehem are currently occupied.
For the first time in my lifetime of 66 years, I will not be attending Christmas Eve services (though my wife and I plan to watch on-line). This morning, we listened to a live BBC radio broadcast of A Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s College Chapel. The service was conceived by the new dean of King’s College on Christmas Eve 1918, in the midst of the flu epidemic and only a month after the end of World War I. It has been broadcast every year since 1928 (except 1930), even during the Second World War, when the chapel’s ancient glass had to be temporarily removed.
I plan to take a day off tomorrow, recognizing, however, that the virus will not do the same. I’d like to leave you with these words from the opening prayer of the Festival service, which must have resonated for those who lost loved ones during the Great War, and are equally poignant tonight: “Lastly, let us remember before God all those who rejoice with us, but upon another shore and in a greater light, that multitude which no man can number”. Amen.
Merry Christmas. Thank you for your reports.
Thank you, Frank. Your words are touching. It's a year for more comfort than joy, but we do feel blessed. Merry Christmas to you and Louise!