Time

Whether we wake or we sleep,
Whether we carol or weep,
The Sun with his Planets in chime,
Marketh the going of Time.
~Edward Fitzgerald

Anyone can

Anyone can carry his burden, however hard, until nightfall. Anyone can do his work, however hard, for one day. Anyone can live sweetly, patiently, lovingly, purely, till the sun goes down. And this is all life really means.
--Robert Louis Stevenson

Feast of Saint Thomas of Canterbury

"For the Name of Jesus and the protection of the Church I am ready to embrace death."

--dying words of Saint Thomas of Canterbury, also known as Saint Thomas (a) Becket.

Saint Thomas, pray for us.

Feast of the Holy Innocents

Sweet flow’rets of the martyr band,
So early plucked by cruel hand;
Like rosebuds by a tempest torn,
As breaks the light of summer morn.
First victims offered for the Lord,
Ye little knew your high reward,
As, at the very altar, gay
With palms and crowns ye seemed to play.
Ah! what availed King Herod’s wrath?
He could not stay your Savior’s path;
The Child he sought alone went free;
That Child is King eternally.
O Lord, the virgin born, to Thee
Praise, honor, might and glory be,
Whom with the Father we adore
And Holy Ghost forevermore.

--Aurelius Prudentius (348-413); translated by Henry W. Baker.

All you Holy Innocents, pray for us. 

Feast of Saint John

Deus caritas est.

(God is Love.)

--First Letter of Saint John, 4,16.
Saint John, pray for us.

Feast of Saint Stephen

"But the victim of love does not suffer as one suffers who has not given everything. The two are as different as day and night. The victim will always be Love's privileged one. If only you knew the joy with which Jesus fills everything we we have given Him everything!"

--Pere Jean de Coeur de Jesus D'Elbee

Saint Stephen, pray for us.

(Happy feast day, Stephen!)

A Christmas Carol

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s lap,
His hair was like a light.
(O weary, weary were the world,
But here is all aright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s breast
His hair was like a star.
(O stern and cunning are the kings,
But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s heart,
His hair was like a fire.
(O weary, weary is the world,
But here the world’s desire.)

The Christ-child stood on Mary’s knee,
His hair was like a crown,
And all the flowers looked up at Him,
And all the stars looked down.
--Gilbert Keith Chesterton 


(A blessed Christmastide to you all, dear readers. I thank you for all of your lovely comments and well-wishes and, most especially, for your prayers. And I pray that Almighty God will richly bless you and your dear ones during these twelve joyful days in which we celebrate Our Blessed Savior's holy birth. May Our Lady be near you throughout this sacred season.--KS)