Old Order Mennonite Memoirs

If we imagine the Old Year as a person, he has only a day, a little bit more, till his life is over. His last breath is imminent, meaning that it is ready to take place, with death hanging threateningly over his head. Then he’ll be gone forever, irretrievable.

I imagine him wearing boots, muddy ones, that is. Although he is old and has white hair, his steps are not slower. Sometimes the Old Year is portrayed as stooped and using a cane, but I question that imagination. Like the tick tock of the wind up grandfather clock in our living room, his steps are steady and relentless. There will be no...