She was five,
sure of the facts,
and recited them
with slow solemnity
convinced every word
was revelation.
She said
they were so poor
they had only peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
to eat
and they went a long way from home
without getting lost. The lady rode
a donkey, the man walked, and the baby
was inside the lady.
They had to stay in a stable
with an ox and an ass (hee-hee)
but the Three Rich Men found them
because a star lited the roof.
Shepherds came and you could
pet the sheep but not feed them.
Then the baby was borned.
And do you know who he was?
Her quarter eyes inflated
to silver dollars.
The baby was God.
And she jumped in the air
whirled around, dove into the sofa
and buried her head under the cushion
which is the only proper response
to the Good News of the Incarnation.
”“ John Shea, The Hour of the Unexpected
My favorite Christmas poem, it was quoted in last night’s Christmas Eve sermon by yours truly.
Brought tears to my eyes. Thank you, Canon Harmon.
Quite right. Such action is the only PROPER response to the Good News of the Incarnation.
Thanks for posting this poem.
SJ Engelhardt
When you posted this last year I saved it and it is a favorite of mine and our 2 daughters. Though we adults also often get the details mixed up, we will do well too keep “Sharon”‘s spirit of wonder and joy too great to contain even when we can no longer jump and whirl so easily!
Anglicanum, me too. I don’t know why I weep when I read this, but there it is.