In light of all the negative headlines, civil unrest, and the international political upheavals, I know many of you are anxious to know what I did for National Kiss a Ginger Day.

Or maybe you missed this particular holiday.

Truth be told, I had never heard of this specific hair pigmentation festivity until recently. I am a ginger, so when I learned of this special occasion I planned on celebrating by listening to Willie Nelson records and watching Carol Burnett reruns.

National Kiss a Ginger Day, however, turned out to be a disappointment. For starters, hardly anyone knows about this important holiday.

When I asked my wife, for example, if she knew what today was, she smiled and handed me a full trash bag.

“Garbage day,” she said.

I spent the rest of the morning breaking down cardboard boxes.

When the garbage truck arrived, as fate would have it, one of the sanitation workers happened to be a redhead. He was a large guy with a bushy orange beard, riding on the back bumper.

“Do you know what today is?!” I called out.

He leapt off the truck, then spit. “Monday,” he replied.

“No,” said I.

Then I told him today was National Kiss a Ginger Day. The man grew silent. “Have a nice day, sir,” he said.

In the grocery store, I asked the cashier if she knew what today was. The woman shook her head and replied, “Should I?”

I said it was National Kiss a Ginger Day.

We just stood there staring at each other. I was waiting for her to make the first move. She looked me up and down, as though she were buying a horse.

“I have a sore throat,” she finally said.

The lady teller at the bank was also a redhead. I was thrilled. Actually, her hair was more auburn, but this definitely counts. I smiled at this woman and asked if she knew what today was.

“January twelfth, sir,” she said, pointing to the bank’s calendar.

“No,” I said, popping a Tic Tac. “Today is a holiday.”

“Not a federal one, it isn’t.”

Finally, I disclosed to her—seriously—that today was National Kiss a Ginger Day.

She shook her head. “I do not identify as ginger.”

So, the holiday was an overall failure. Until later that evening. I was about to give up hope when I received a text message from my favorite ginger, Morgan Love.

Morgan is 20, and has been in the hospital for months, due to a host of medical issues. She has had a fungal blood infection, she hasn’t been tolerating her intravenous nutrition.

She has been lying in her hospital bed since before Christmas, and the doctors were telling her things weren’t looking good.

Many of Morgan’s friends, all over town, all over the state, all over the world, are intensely praying for her recovery. I’m one of them.

Although you’d never know Morgan wasn’t having the time of her life whenever you visit her hospital room. Every time we visit, she is smiling and laughing. Nurses, doctors, medical staffers, and random custodial workers are attracted to her glee.

Her whole room radiates with joy. I could swear the geographic center of the known universe is precisely located wherever Morgan Love is.

Morgan’s text message to me read: “I’m going home after my surgery today!” And just when I couldn’t get any happier, her follow-up text read: “Happy National Kiss a Ginger Day!”

So it turned out to be a great day for gingers, after all.