If I am truthful with you, my heart is quite heavy this Christmas.

In Ukraine, they fight a war reminiscent of World War I, with troops in trenches. Meanwhile, above those trenches, high-technology drones fly overhead. What a paradox.

In Gaza, they search out tunnels by dropping more bombs or pumping in more sea water. All the while, bullets keep flying and more families become homeless and hostages remain captives.

For me, “peace on Earth” seems but a meaningless phrase this Christmas.

Yet, I hope.

After all, isn’t that what Christmas is all about — hope for the world?

And, as I hope, I’m reminded of a different time, a different war. I’m reminded that one of the greatest poets of this country — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow — overcame his own grief and wrote one of the most inspirational Christmas songs of all time.

It was in the midst of the Civil War when Longfellow’s oldest son, Charles, against the wishes of his father, enlisted into the Union army. Longfellow at the time was raising six children on his own and was fighting depression, having lost his wife less than two years earlier after her dress caught on fire.

The younger Longfellow would serve his country well, but, at a little-known battle in Virginia in early December, he was shot through the shoulder, the bullet by the narrowest of margins missing his spinal cord. Still, he lay in a hospital in serious condition.

As might be expected, the elder Longfellow was beside himself.

And who could blame him? He lost the love of his life less than two years previous. His oldest son lay in a hospital bed almost paralyzed. He was trying to be the glue of the family for his six children, but, at times, that glue seemed brittle and cracking.

As he sat in his Cambridge, Massachusetts home on Christmas Day, he heard the bells ringing in a church nearby heralding the birth of the Christ child.

Flooded with a wide range of emotions, he grabbed paper and pen and soon began transcribing what he was feeling on paper in the form of a poem.

His finished work was what we know today as “Christmas Bells.” The poem, which later had music added to it, reflects Longfellow’s conflicting emotions, but ends with the conclusion that:

“And in despair I bowed my head;

“‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;

“‘For hate is strong,

“‘And mocks the song

“‘Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’

“Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

“‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

“‘The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail,

“‘With peace on earth, good-will to men.'”

Longfellow inspired me as I prepare for Christmas.

As I sat wrestling with what to write as a column this week, “I heard the bells of Christmas Day, their old, familiar carols play.”

At a time when the world seems turned upside down and inside out, I heard the Christmas bells and saw the Christmas star in the sky.

And I once again was filled with hope.

I hope this Christmas you and your family experience that same hope, as well.

From my home to yours, Merry Christmas.