Writing this article was difficult for two main reasons.

Firstly, the day before the article was due (Thursday) my laptop malfunctioned so I could not use it to work on the submission.

Exhausted after a long day, I decided to go to bed and wake early as usual (around 3 am), write by hand and find a computer during the day on which to type everything by midday.

I always use a computer when working on long documents; it affords me the capacity to write at (or close to) the speed of thought, and to delete, or easily rearrange sentences and paragraphs.

Writing "by hand" is now more for short notes, hurriedly scribbled lists of things to do or remember, or for drawing and doodling.

I did not get far writing by hand. Dawn came and I had written nothing, or, more precisely, whatever I had attempted lay in crumpled balls of paper all over the table.

Secondly, upon realising that my article would be published on Christmas Day, my thoughts instantly went to the people throughout the nation for whom this day of traditionally expected peace, joy, love, good cheer and merriment would bring no such feelings.

What could I write to or for them? Perhaps nothing.

I thought about the President and the annual task of delivering a Christmas address to the nation. Penning such a speech must become more challenging each year. Apart from avoiding redundancy, how does one generate a sense of hope in a nation where so many people are increasingly besieged by fear, anger, frustration, shock, trauma, grief, desperation and a host of other emotions, brought about by everything from the increasing cost of living to the rapidly rising, record-breaking murder count?

Moments later, I saw the following announcement on Facebook:

"There will be no video Christmas message this year from Her Excellency Paula-Mae Weekes ORTT, President of the Republic of Trinidad and Tobago.

[caption id="attachment_992598" align="alignnone" width="541"] -[/caption]

This is because Her Excellency's nonagenarian mother has contracted covid and, as is recommended, Her Excellency is in quarantine."

For a moment it crossed my mind– what if there were no official Christmas message at all? Or, what if an address to the nation were to be made not by someone in high office, but by an "everyday" person, from "the streets", from a humble walk of life, from an unexpected quarter of society?

A beggar, a child, a struggling single mother, a prisoner – citizens who might be scorned or overlooked and underestimated by many, but who have a lot to say and value to offer from their unique points of experience.

One might draw a similarity between my suggestion of the "lowly" speech-giver and the Christmas story of the baby born in the manger surrounded by a few people (Mary Joseph, wise men) and some animals.

Whereas today, the manger is, for many, an important Christmas scene, displayed in a variety of ways with cute animals, smiling adults and clean surroundings, the reality is that such a setting would have been anything but pristine and decorative in t