Where refugees seek deliverance that never comes,And the heart consumes itself, if it would live,
Where little children age before their time,
And life wears down the edges of the mind,
Where the old man sits with mind grown cold
While bones and sinew, blood and cell, go slowly down to death,
Where fear companions each day's life,
And Perfect Love seems long delayed,
Christmas is waiting to be born:
In you, in me, in all humankind.
- from The Moods of Christmas by Howard Thurman
Very well said. Thanks for sharing that, Bob.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed it too Wanda.
DeleteNot really sure who Christmas can be born in us, per se, but I do love it. But, truth be told, for all the superficial reasons -- it's cultural trappings: the food, music, colours, lights, gift giving, snow, etc. the christmas story is, of course, the most incredible there is I suspect, even if it actualyl happened in summer or whenever.
ReplyDeletethere is only one part of xmas I don;t like-- lying to kids about santa. We jsut told our kids the stockings were from us as a memory of Nicholas's goodwill and cahrity and woudl let them imagine me getting in a santa suit or what have you without telling them that that is what I did or not. Imaginations of children are wonderful but there was no let down later, and they knew all the other gifts under the tree were from their parents who loved them. :) It worked great.