Archive for December, 2016

Forgotten Joy

Fragments of forgotten joy

sped like sparrows to the ground

Beneath a sky of spreading ink

forlorn, undreaming in a shroud


Where peace was found in eras gone

now oceans claim its passing

Lashed by surges, frigid grey

to taunt all thoughts of lasting


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Wishing you a Christmas truly blessed

A time of joy and pleasure

Celebrating with fun and friends and guests

Remembering earth’s greatest Treasure


Wishing you a New Year that is filled

With happiness, love and peace

And that the coming days will yield

A wonder that will never cease

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Not a Date

Christmas Quote

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Our Finest GiftsWhose are the finest gifts this year,

At such a time of festive cheer?

Are shopping lists finally completed?

Are pocketbooks once more depleted?

As shops all vie for lowest prices,

Sleep deficit and blood pressure rises;

Where are the gifts we said we’d bring,

To lay at the feet of a newborn King?

Wrapped against the winter’s chill,

Hoping for some warmth to feel;

It is not there within the soul,

Still incomplete and never full.

What is the finest gift but to know,

What a newborn King lived and died to show.

The path to love, the path to living,

Is this the gift that we are giving?

It can’t be wrapped, for it is free;

Knowing this Love for eternity,

Is the finest gift that one could bring—

Showing the way to the newborn King.

Finding peace and warmth within this light,

Flooding the soul with a love so bright,

Sorrow of seasons is washed away,

With the Love that came down on Christmas Day.

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Christmas Quote

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Light of Christmas

Child touching Christmas bell on wreath

Aiden touching the “singing” bells

[Written December 4, 2010]

I am sitting outside in the cold, still night air. The sky above is cloudy and not a star can be seen. A slight and chill wind rustles by, threatening to pull the last few leaves that have managed to last thus far in the tree I sit against. The weather is colder than I have experienced in the past 11 years in India, but a certain sense of warmth pervades.

I am not sitting here alone. Actually, I would not be sitting here at all, if not for my son. Yesterday, my husband and my mother strung colorful Christmas lights around the house and the trees. They put up giant baubles in the trees—green, gold and red. There is a wreath with bells that light up as it plays one Christmas tune after another. That is why I am sitting outside in the cold, with my son on my lap, watching the little golden bells light up as the Christmas tunes play.

I try to keep up with the tunes, singing to my son, as he listens quietly.

I ask if we can go inside now.

“No,” is his quick response.

Aiden points into the window, where we can see my husband making chicken curry for dinner. “Windee,” he says, “Da-da”. Every day his verbal repertoire grows. His new word today was window (windee).

I ask if we can go inside now.

“No,” he says again.

“Ball,” he notices the baubles hanging on the trees. I carry him to one after another, as he touches them and tries out the word bauble: “baboo,” he says, pointing to the biggest one, a deep green.

By now the chill wind is getting to me.

I ask if we should go inside and tell daddy about the lights and music.

He finally nods, “yass”. We head inside and he calls out, “Da-da, meeks.” I’m pretty sure that’s meant to be music.

After just a moment back in the warm house, he points outside once more, “Elights.” That was yesterday’s new word.

Outside once more…it’s even colder than before. The lights are beautiful now that it’s completely dark. Aiden has always really liked lights, from the time he was a baby. My thoughts went back to last Christmas—his first Christmas. Although he was sick with chicken pox that year, it was still the best Christmas I ever had. He loved the Christmas tree lights…so did I.

Every Christmas has been special in some way. Whether in a country that celebrated Christmas or not, whether at times that I was surrounded by friends and family or on my own—somehow those twinkling lights always made me feel the touch of Christmas.

Sitting once more in the dark, watching the brightly-twinkling lights, I think of another light that shines every Christmas. In a time of darkness was born the brightest light the world has ever known.

Maybe that’s why the lights always brought Christmas into my heart.

I cuddle Aiden close and continue singing— of Christmas, of light, of love.

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Do you have something

More sure

to offer

Please tell

and lead the way

But do not

I pray, I bed

Turn away the water

that just might quench your thirst

when you have

Nothing to drink

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