WE REMEMBERED ALL THE LIGHT

It began in the morning as the sun was peeking up over the horizon. For those with a view of it, the sun seemed more intense somehow, more colorful than usual, somehow mesmerizing. Those watching began to feel blissful. As each city and town brightened in the morning sun, a strange, crackling energy came with it. Some people reported hearing a kind of static. Others heard music—otherworldly harmonies and melodies. And even if it was raining, a strong sense of well-being began to percolate within the human population, like a dry sponge soaking up moisture. People who usually woke up grumpy and harried and groping for coffee or tea arose with a sense of elation, as if they had just won the lottery. They were drawn outside to squint at the sun (many for the first time since childhood), to wave at their neighbors, to smile or dance or sing or whistle. Many people were late for work, but they didn’t care. Traffic still got snarled along the freeways, but traffic jams suddenly didn’t seem important. People rolled down their windows and chatted with those in neighboring cars. They let others merge in front of them. They didn’t try to run red lights. On the radios and TVs, newscasters started talking about “happy juice.” They ignored their teleprompts of dire news and began commenting on how glorious the world really was and how much they valued and respected each other. Listeners were bewildered but found themselves laughing along. Something palpable was sweeping over the land and it seemed to affect everyone. It was suddenly hard to remember what the last fight was about, what the grievances were. Siblings started sharing and saying kind things to each other. Teachers let their students leave the classrooms. Trading eventually ceased at stock exchanges. Politicians stopped ranting and gave each other hugs. Venomous words disappeared into thin air. Bank loans were easily approved. Farmers opened the gates of confined animals. Thieves abandoned their plans. It was reported that not a single gun was fired that day. There were no homicides, no drive-by shootings, no police shootings, not even hunting. Where war was being waged, soldiers simply threw down their guns, climbed out of their tanks. Bombers returned to the airfields. Missile strikes were cancelled. Prisoners were released. Songs about war being cancelled broke out among troops. Some spontaneously started walking home. Basic training was suspended. Nobody claimed that every single person on earth experienced this miracle, at least that first day, but who could not be affected by the sudden outpouring of kindness, generosity, respect, and assistance? Like most everyone else, I was suddenly giddy with excitement and possibility. I didn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t recognize that it was a world-wide phenomenon. I only knew that some weight was suddenly lifted, and everything seemed lighter and brighter and easy and free. I felt truly happy.