Three wise women would have come to help deliver the baby, and make supper and clean the stable…

105dde28-6d99-4acf-8274-84a3bd4d949b_672x520

A strory from Garrison Keillor:
I did a show in New York a couple weeks ago and at the end I had the audience sing “Silent Night,” the verse about calmness and brightness and also the shepherds and heavenly hosts and then we hummed a verse which, a capella, was so tender and haunting and beautiful, I saw people dabbing at their eyes, but at the same time I knew I was out on a limb, it being New York, there being so many unbelievers in the crowd and –– Hello? It’s New York? The handclapping to “Chanukah O Chanukah” an hour before told you that the Bernsteins and Brusteins and Blooms were in the house, and had they paid $109.50, to attend a Lutheran service? I don’t think so but I’m not going to speak for them.

They all knew the words: this came through clearly. Maybe they were Orthodox Chasidim from Crown Heights but they knew “Silent Night” and you can call it colonial acculturation but it sounded authentic to me and my purpose was only to give them the pleasure of joining a 1500-voice choir, a rare privilege in our fragmented society, wary people edging away from each other, and shouldn’t each of us at least once a year consider the possibility that the Creator of the Universe of galaxies known and unknown billions of light years away should come to this tiny insignificant planet in the form of an infant in order to better understand us mortal beings? It’s beyond our understanding but then so is the Universe.
In return, I will consider that maybe the Chasidim are right and I have wasted a great deal of time listening to sermons on the Pauline epistles.
I do believe in the Christmas story, that God put his omnipotence on a shelf and became an infant child –– it’s in keeping with Christ telling his disciples, “What you do for the least of these, ye do for me.” I believe, except for the three wise guys. How they snuck in is a mystery. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh are not suitable gifts for a newborn. Three wise women would’ve brought something useful and arrived in time to help deliver the infant, make supper, and clean the stable.

Do you put the individual above all, and tech at the center of everything?

336887735_1175469369824303_8558584006798436527_n

Snail Mail in Maine

HappySnailsbyJudyElizWilson

Snails by Judy Elizabeth Wilson

.

face to face in Maine

mailman, waiters, snow plows, art,

taking time to see!

Definition @23 Art

Tilling the Soil in Vietnam

Tilling the Soil in Vietnam

John Cheever: “Fiction is art and art is triumph over chaos. To celebrate a world that bewilders us like a stupendous dream.”

October 23: Writers’ Almanac Podcast

art triumphs over

chaos: bewilderment fades

in celebration!

Grandma Needs

"He's not heavy; he's my brother!"

“He’s not heavy; he’s my brother!”


communication,
food, play, music, couch, safety,
rest, comfort, and art!