On Christmas Eve, I received a note from a friend in Nigeria. The subject line of his email was this: bombs for Christmas. In this note, he describes in detail how he and his family are dealing with the violence all around them. Today, I received another note from a colleague in Asia who is living on a very low salary and cannot see how he will make ends meet. And yet another note from a couple in the Southern United States outlined how the sale of their house fell through and they weren't sure what to do next. My inbox took the wind out of me. I recall a section of 'The Stranger' by Albert Camus where we read these words:
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The chaplain knew the game well too, I could tell right away: his gaze never faltered. And his voice didn't falter, either, when he said, 'Have you no hope at all? And do you really live with the thought that when you die, you die, and nothing remains?' 
