It's a strange time in the U.S.

There just seems to be this unusual surreal kind of mood around.

Yeah, everybody is all patriotic and united, but there seems to be this kind of social pall hanging over us.

Maybe it seems more prevalent to me because it's Christmas.

The holidays are generally a happy time. People giving and receiving gifts. Kids smiling and laughing.

There's still a good bit of that going on, but it just seems different this year.

The "war" in Afghanistan is certainly a factor. So is the economy.

Lots of people have lost jobs and are losing jobs. Lots of people didn't get dividend checks or bonus checks or salary increases or wage increases this year.

Lots of people's 401Ks and retirement accounts are looking a little feeble.

There are plenty of people in this country - and this community - who have fallen on hard times.

And even those of us fortunate enough to avoid financial hard times still are feeling the pinch.

In times like these, it's easy to say "woe is me."

But you know what? I think the vast majority of people in this country should probably be thankful.

Despite the terrorist threat we face, despite the economic uncertainties of the future, one thing remains clear.

The United States is still the greatest place to live on the planet.

We enjoy freedoms and opportunities that millions of people all over the world can only dream of.

I think now more than ever we have to focus on the positive. It is a time for optimism.

You know, the old glass-half-full-or- glass-half-empty adage. I think we need to see the glass as half-full.

And frankly, I think the glass truly is half-full.

I think the war on terrorism will be a good thing for our future. Surely the dismantling of the Taliban and al-Qaida has set terrorism back decades.

We have de-emphasized bin whatshisname. He is no longer the revered leader. He is a coward. A cowering fool, hiding in a cave as his followers die.

There are no more protests of our actions. There are no more gatherings of terrorist supporters burning American flags and holding up posters of bin whoever.

Our action in Afghanistan has done something else.

It has put would-be terrorists of the future on notice. They know we will no longer tolerate them. Every country in the world will think long and hard before knowingly harboring or supporting terrorists.

Terrorists will find it very difficult to organize and recruit openly. They will have a tough time laundering and transferring money.

It will be more difficult for them to procure the tools of terror, like anthrax or plutonium.

We, as Americans, will be more diligent. We will be more likely to report suspicious behavior.

It's just going to be darn hard to be a terrorist in this world anymore.

And the economy?

So much of that hinges on a factor called "consumer confidence."

I believe the recession is already starting to bottom out. As more and more consumers gain confidence, the economy will turn around.

More people will buy things. More things will be manufactured. More people will be hired. More people will have more money to buy more things.

No question. The economy will turn around.

So going into the holidays, I'm going to be optimistic.

In keeping with that sentiment, I would like to take this opportunity to say thanks.

Thanks to our readers and advertisers for their loyalty, for sticking with us through some difficult economic times.

Thanks to the newsroom, advertising, pressroom, accounting and circulation staffs for the 307 editions of the Times-Union they will have produced in 2001.

And thanks to the owners for giving us the freedom and resources to bring the community a lively, viable daily newspaper.

What follows has been bouncing around the Internet this Christmas season. The author is unknown. I think it carries an important message. See if you agree.

A BABY'S HUG

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi there." He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.

I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.

"Hi there, baby; Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks. "What do we do?" Erik continued to laugh and answer, "Hi, hi there."

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo."

Nobody thought the old man was cute. He looked like a drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. "Just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I thought.

As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's "pick-me-up" position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man's.

Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby were embracing. Erik in an act of total trust, love and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain and hard labor cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck.

The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms. His eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby." Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift." I said nothing more than a muttered thanks.

With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me."

I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a "Christian" who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt as if it was God asking, "Are you willing to share your son for a moment?" when He shared His for all eternity.

The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter the kingdom of God, we must become as little children."

Perhaps if we try to be a little more childlike - a little less greedy, vindictive and judgmental - it will make it easier to see the glass half-full.

Merry Christmas, everyone. [[In-content Ad]]