Thursday, December 22, 2005

The Stable

For many people, Christmas is about the loneliest time of the year. For all of us in our lonely moments, here is a poem I found yesterday:

The winds were scornful,
Passing by;
And gathering Angels
Wondered why

A burdened Mother
Did not mind
That only animals
Were kind.

For who in all the world
Could guess
That God would search out

Sr. M. Chrysostom, O.S.B.
Robert, Cyril. Mary Immaculate: God's Mother and Mine. New York: Marist Press, 1946.

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