A Story

Chunks of snow and ice line driveways and sidewalks, and freezing rain falls from the sky.  The temperature hovers just enough above freezing that the precipitation doesn't yield an icy, disastrous mess on roads and walks.  Somewhere between a skiff and half an inch of wet powder covers anything left stationary for longer than an hour or two, and the sun tries bravely to penetrate the heavy grey clouds.

Life must go on despite the weather, though.  So at least one individual left the house earlier than usual, found a parking spot left vacant of both a car and too-deep snow, and tramped a bit over the crusted ice piled up from last night's fall ... to reach the polling place.  There, determined to be one of the people whose voice is heard, she cast her vote, and in so doing, participated in a process that men gave their lives to obtain on her behalf.

The responsibility is not one to be taken lightly.  Tomorrow, she will learn who obtained the voice of the people, and then will know how well she and those who think as she does will be represented on Capitol Hill.  And this time, major changes - both those pending and those yet unforseen - will be determined by the ballot she cast.  Changes that will impact not only her, but loved ones and strangers across this vast nation, as well as children yet unborn. 

One vote - one bubble filled in on a scantron sheet - could easily be rationalized as being so minute in its effect that it is not worth her time.  But it is her responsibility to do what she can to be a influence for good in this world.  And today, voting was one small way to fulfill that responsibility.

The End.