Merry 3rd Day of Chistmas!

Touch Hands. This poem by William Henry Harrison Murray is an old favorite of mine, made more meaningful by recent events:
Ah, friends, dear friends, as years go on
  and heads get gray,
  how fast the guests do go!
Touch hands, touch hands,
  with those that stay.
Strong hands  to weak,
  old hands to young,
  around the Christmas board, touch hands.
The false forget, the foe forgive,
  for every guest will go
  and every fire burn low
  and cabin empty stand.
Forget, forgive, for who may say
  that Christmas day may ever come
  to host or guest again.
Touch hands!