I'm not sure I agree...

On Sunday, Joe and I tried to find a footpath connecting our neighborhood to one just off of Charles St., one of the main roads through town. It looked on the map as if the neighborhoods should connect somehow, and a path would make a handy shortcut to the library.

The other neighborhood was pretty, with some older houses set along a treeful hill. But I guess we won't be walking there much, because where there used to be a shortcut, there are now two fences, a pile of brush, and a sign that says "Sidewalks are the best way."

We've all been writing lately

I wonder at it every time, how words that seems so set in my head are forced to become something else altogether on paper.

Days Like This

The winter sun shines off both the clouds and the road, and all the drivers have to squint against it. At stoplights you can turn to see their faces, lit golden under puckered brows.

The road seems thin, the world stretched tight, as if it could snap against the flood of hopes underneath it. The Love that sustains us feels sharp and clear, a breath in the cold.

(I edited this once since posting it, taking out a couple words and adding in another.)

"Deferred"

Rejected by the Red Cross! It stings! 

(Maybe I will get to try again soon. In the meantime, does anyone want to give blood in my place?)

Christ passing by

After dark on Christmas Eve, Joe and I were driving from church to my parents' house to celebrate when an older woman crossed in front of us at a stoplight. I was the only one who saw her as she passed, walking like she had a ways to go and pushing a metal cart, like homeless people sometimes do.

I didn't know if she had a home or anyone to celebrate with, but she was Christ passing by, in a way, and I suddenly wondered if there was anything I could do for her. Ask her to dinner? (But would she want to hop into my car for a 15-minute ride with a pair of strangers?) Give her a present? (But what could I offer?) It didn't seem right to just stick my head out the window to wish her a merry Christmas after she had already started to go, if I didn't know how merry her Christmas would really  be... 

So the light changed, and I drove away.

She has been on my mind. I hope her Christmas was happy. I wish I had parked and jumped out. I remember now that I had a loaf of banana bread in the backseat... 

Love came down...

Blessed Christmas, everyone.

Spur-of-the-moment

The priest came by for a few minutes yesterday to bless the house yesterday. The was holy water EVERYWHERE.

(I say that with a grin, but Joe was a little shocked!)

Plus, we had a nice conversation about straw.

Brrrrr

It was 19 degrees when we left the house today, and the puddles from all the rain had frozen over.

I've hardly taken my coat off all day.

Early-morning surprise

I had nodded off in the pew before church at the monastery this morning when one of the women there came up to Joe and me, wished us a Merry Christmas (startling me awake) and then gave us a beautifully wrapped present! 

It took me a few seconds to recover from the shock. Joe, a little more collected, thanked her.

We both puzzled over what it might be and then opened it as soon as we left. A Christmas ornament! 

Some lettering on Minnie's skirt reads "1st Christmas together." The lettering on the package reads "2006," hehe.

I'm touched.

A pretty season

Stars above the dining table

Stockings on the bannister

Angels near the front door

Advent

For almost two weeks now, Joseph and Mary have been alone in the nativity scene with the animals. The Christ-child will appear on Christmas, and so will the angel to proclaim His birth. There will be shepherds -- okay, well, our nativity set did not come with any shepherds -- and wise men from the East to offer reverence.

Things are quieter and simpler in the meantime. There is no manger with a baby lying in it, but Joseph and Mary have each other. I like to peek into the nativity scene now, because Joseph and Mary look like they are waiting, but also content. They look like they are in love.

This time of year, I sing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" a lot. I always seem to mess things up in December, and it is a good song for crying out. It is a good time to remember that redemption is near indeed.

O, come! O, come, Emmanuel

and ransom captive Israel

that mourns in lonely exile here

until the Son of God appears.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.