Today's poem is 'Unto us a Son is Given' by Alice Meynell, an English poet of the twentieth century, twice nominated to be Poet Laureate - and twice rejected (the only woman so far is Carol Anne Duffy, under new rules that(wisely imo)  limit the tenure to ten years).  She was also a devout Roman Catholic and a Suffragist (not a Suffragette).  You can find the poem here

I chose a photo of some of the Christmas cards I have received, as they seemed to connect, n a very small way, with the poem.

And the prayer:

God of the ages, God of this age,

It is so true - each year it happens again, whether we name it, or know it, or believe it;

Wise ones still seek it, humble ones discover it, animals sense it, and stars declare it -

Help us, then, to relax into it.

Amen

(is it just me who is now losing track of days and dates..?!)

Today's gift was a small, matte finish, gold bauble, now nestled in my Christmas tree. I tried to track down the origins of baubles and, perhaps unsurprisingly, they emerge quite late in time, and are a commercial undertaking to replace the more organic berries, cones, ribbons and candles (always seems dangeous that one!) of past times.

My tree is around thirty years old, it was bought in a department store that is long gone.  Many of my baubles were bought there, but others have been added over time, and many, maybe most, carry memories of people and places. I think this is true for many people - though I was a bit bewildered the other day to see someone walking along the street with two HUGE boxes of baubles - maybe they are just starting out and have a large tree to decorate?  In thirty years, will they look back and remember the day they bought them?

Enjoy your decorations, many or few, and all they mean to you.