A time for solidarity

A virus strikes. A little more vicious than the others.

The world suddenly goes into a panic and is forced to comply with directives, some of which may seem incomprehensible or contradictory.

We argue about whether to tell the Covid, whether the decisions taken by governments are the right ones, whether borders should remain open or not, we’re very worried about the consequences of this pandemic and many of us wonder whether we’ll be able to keep our jobs or keep our businesses afloat, and in this paranoid delirium, we unfortunately tend to forget the most fragile and the most destitute. Those who are hospitalized, of course, the medical staff who assist them, and all those whom the pandemic suddenly isolates a little more each day.

I’m thinking of my late sister’s former disabled roommates, shut away in their institutions and deprived – like the rest of us – of the spice of life: culture, outings, shows and concerts of all kinds.

I’m thinking of our fellow travelers and friends, restaurateurs, hairdressers, tenants, artists of all stripes, who are suddenly idle again, treading the fallen leaves that litter the sidewalks, wondering whether their businesses will survive the winter of 2020-2021, and for whom the word “telecommuting” simply means nothing…

So isn’t it time we took a better look around us? To address those we still come across on a daily basis, with a kind word – since smiles are now masked – a mark of empathy or even a concrete tip to help them contact the right organization, the right government department, or simply to help them log on to these internet sites that abound and often have no one to talk to, no one to explain their misfortune to?

In this month leading up to Christmas and the festive season, the question isn’t “what are we going to do at Christmas, and with whom?” the real question is an answer: the time for all forms of solidarity must truly begin.

Samuel F. Blunier