Last week, my friend gave me a book of poetry by the late Madeleine L'Engle. She knows I'm a fan of Madeleine, that one of my favorite books, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art, came from Ms. L'Engle. So she gave me this book, which was one of several recently gifted to her, all of which were personally signed by the author. This one says:
for Gretchen - joy in all weather - Madeleine L'Engle.
Tonight, eve of Christmas Eve, I offer you these words from page 47 of The Weather of the Heart. May your celebrating be only at a beginning tomorrow, and may each of us risk loving in this coming year.
The Risk of Birth, Christmas, 1973
This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war & hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out & the sun burns late.
That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honour & truth were trampled by scorn--
Yet here did the Saviour make his home.
When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by the comet the sky is torn--
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.