ocelot

For So the Children Come
Poem by Sophia Lyon Fahs

For so the children come
And so they have been coming.
Always in the same way they come
born of the seed of man and woman.

No angels herald their beginnings.
No prophets predict their future courses.
No wisemen see a star to show where to find the babe
that will save humankind.

Yet each night a child is born is a holy night,
Fathers and mothers--
sitting beside their children's cribs
feel glory in the sight of a new life beginning.

They ask, "Where and how will this new life end?
Or will it ever end?"

Each night a child is born is a holy night--
A time for singing,
A time for wondering,
A time for worshipping.

This was read at our Christmas Eve service.

koyote pointed it out to me in the hymn book a few months ago, and it gave me the shivers. I'm glad they chose it for tonight.

I'm also glad we went to the service.

koyote's resistance has won out over the past several years, but it really feels more Christmasey to me now.

(Also, a lovely Solstice litany of hope by

elisem)

***

Leif got his big present today - a loft bed, which he is now attempting to sleep in, but both kids have a bad case of sugar high excitement.

koyote puts together the bed while Leif decorates.

Astrid's homemade present. I fell in love with star-shaped Waldorf dolls at Whole Earth Festival last year, and have wanted to make her one since. I'm pretty happy with this one, despite the case of microcephaly.