"Sire, the night is darker now, and the wind blows stronger;
Fails my heart, I know not how; I can go no longer."
"Mark my footsteps, good my page. Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage
freeze thy blood less coldly."
In his master's steps he trod, where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod, which the saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure, wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor, shall yourselves find blessing.
"Good King Wenceslas" lyrics by John Mason Neale, 1853
Long shadows and freezing temperatures marked St. Stephen's Day. I did not venture out to join the crowds at the malls. Instead, I found warmth in an intimate chapel service. There may have been 18 faithfully gathered -- even the minister took the day off after the hectic Christmastide. Appropriately, the lay reader's 'reflections' reminded us that miracles do happen with small acts of kindness.
No comments:
Post a Comment