The song for this week is directly inspired by the "Wee Sing" Christmas tape that our family listened to when I was a child. Among all the usual Christmas favorites, there were songs that I had never heard before (and some have not been heard since). As a child, I enjoyed hearing songs from different cultures because they told the Christmas story in ways not always familiar to American ears. The songs were also an introduction to the Christian belief in the universal church. I understood the concept at the time like this: our brothers and sisters in Christ speak many languages, and don't always sing like German Lutherans. (Or, more crudely, not everybody speaks English and sings like WE do!) Some of the songs became favorites of mine - "Fum, Fum, Fum", the Spanish tune, is one.
The Huron Carol (also known as "Twas in the Moon of Wintertime") was a particular favorite. Written for the Huron people in 1643 by a Jesuit priest and using a French folk tune, it is Canada's oldest Christmas song. The original Huron name is "Jesous Ahatonhia" ("Jesus, he is born"). This version is sung in Huron, French, and English.
Praise be to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who was born for the redemption of all the world!
Pink. There will be lots of pink. And lace, bows, braids, skirts, and perhaps ballet shoes, too. Dolls. Storybooks about princesses and happily ever afters. Eventually she'll graduate to Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters. High heels and cosmetics.
Of course, she could be a tomboy and fight her momma every time she has to wear a dress. Or instead of dancing she might want to play football. :) We'll love her no matter what.
She's one day old today. He who does not slumber nor sleep will keep watch over her all of her days. God bless you, CME! (It's kind of cool you have your uncle's initials. He loves you, too. :))
There was a time when meadow, grove and stream, The earth, and every common sight, To me did seem Apparelled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. It is not now as it hath been of yore;- Turn whereso'er I may, By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more. The Rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the Rose, The Moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Waters on a starry night Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath past away a glory from the earth. *** Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who is our home: Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
-William Wordsworth, from"Ode On Intimations Of Immortality From Recollections Of Early Childhood" (Really? He couldn't think of a shorter title?)