Merry Christmas and pleased virtually New Yr. 2025, a minimum of in my expertise, was a 12 months when the longer term appeared extra open, extra unsure, and possibly in some methods extra horrifying than at any level in current reminiscence. And so I assumed I’d learn a poem for the season whereas dressed on this remarkably seasonal sweater that spoke on to the expertise of transformation, nervousness in its shadow and, hopefully, revelation as properly. So that is “The Journey of the Magi” by T.S. Eliot. A chilly coming we had of it simply the worst time of the 12 months for a journey and such a protracted journey. The methods deep and the climate sharp. The very lifeless of winter. And the camels galled. Sore-footed, refractory. Mendacity down within the melting snow. There have been instances we regretted the summer time palaces on slopes, the terraces and the silken ladies bringing sherbert. Then the camel males cursing and grumbling and operating away and wanting their liquor and ladies and the night time fires going out and the dearth of shelters and town’s hostile and the city’s unfriendly, and the village’s soiled and charging excessive costs. A tough time we had of it. On the finish we most well-liked to journey all night time, sleeping in snatches with the voices singing in our ears, saying that this was all folly. Then, at daybreak, we got here right down to a temperate valley, moist under the snow line, smelling of vegetation, with a operating stream and a water mill beating the darkness, and three bushes on the low sky. And an outdated white horse galloped away within the meadow. Then we got here to a tavern with vine leaves over the lintel. Six arms at an open door, dicing for items of silver, and toes kicking the empty wine skins. However there was no info. And so we continued, and arrived at night, not a second too quickly, discovering the place. It was, you might say, passable. All this was a very long time in the past. I keep in mind, and I’d do it once more. However set down this. Set down this. Have been we led all that method for beginning or loss of life? There was a beginning. Actually, we had proof, and little question I had seen beginning and loss of life, however had thought they have been totally different. This beginning was arduous and bitter agony for us. Like loss of life, our loss of life, we return to our locations, these kingdoms, however not relaxed right here within the outdated dispensation with an alien individuals clutching their gods. I ought to be glad of one other loss of life. So after I learn this poem to my youngsters as a observe, they mentioned: Dad, that’s sort of darkish. And in a method it’s. However I believe an understanding of the darkness that’s threaded in amid the enjoyment and happiness and presence on Christmas morning is admittedly essential to understanding the true spirit of Christmas that the fact of the darkness is the rationale for the sunshine. So, Merry Christmas.
