It is two days after the election, and a wet snow covers the ground. The dog is thrilled to chase snowballs, but since it is raining, my own limited enthusiasm for throwing the snowballs cuts short the fun. But the nasty weather can’t dampen my feeling of relief—Obama won, and the Democrats control the Senate, with many women winning the election. I don’t expect any miracles, no “Kumbayas” from the Republican-controlled House, but at least the country can list in the right direction—toward health care for all, toward green energy, toward Pell grants, toward the rich paying their fair share in taxes.

On election night, I stayed up late to watch the results, and when the cameras turned to the Obama supporters in Chicago, I was struck by the beautiful diversity of the crowd—black, brown, Asian, white, young, old, female, male. This is what American looks like now, and in the upcoming years, it will be even more the case.

Unfortunately, too many in the Republican party fear this future. They don’t see beauty in this diversity, and their fear makes them angry. Angry with blacks and Hispanics and immigrants. Angry with women. Angry with poor people, with students, with gays, with anyone who doesn’t fit their narrow vision of what America should look like. I can’t help but feel a little sorry for these Republicans. The country is changing, and rather than embrace the vitality that this change brings, they clamp down in anger and ugliness. And with an individualism that promotes a selfishness that could be summed up as “I want mine, and to heck with you.”

Now, I live in Winthrop, a small town in central Maine. Its population is 6,000, and let’s just say that everyone is pretty white. However, a funny, moving thing happened yesterday at the Flaky Tart, where my friend Claire and I went to lunch to celebrate the election and to talk about its many details. We sat on tall chairs next to one of the windows. Claire had chicken salad, and I had my favorite, a BLT on homemade bread. As we were talking, in came Craig Hickman, a Democrat, who won the election for state Representative for the towns of Winthrop and neighboring Readfield. It might not be accurate to state that Craig is the only African American in town, but let’s just say that their numbers are small. Craig ran against a very decent white man, Scott Davis, a Republican, and Craig won.

After I gave him a hug, Craig went to talk to Rosa, one of the owners of the Tart. Rosa is from Venezuela, and she has dark good looks and a lovely accent. She also has the outgoing personality so typical of many South Americans. As soon as Craig came over to her, Rosa gave a little shriek, hugged him, and began crying.

Claire and I looked at each and smiled. Here, in white Winthrop, we had a little pocket of diversity, and it sure felt good.

“It all turned out far better than we even dared hope, didn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes, it did,” Claire replied. “It certainly did.”