To my cyber friends, world-wide:
It is dark now here in California. The Christmas lights are glowing; our presents have been shared; the night is quiet and soft.
There is a time to speak and write - and a time to just be reflective and quiet.
I don't want to say much, but my thoughts are with you who are part of this spiritual struggle.
I have been thinking about what Christmas experience to share - and the most tender one that I can think of was told to me this evening.
It is a very simple story, and I won't waste unnecessary words.
It happened on a Christmas Eve during the First World War. Brother was fighting Aryan brother. Night fell, and the fighting diminished, then stopped.
Suddenly, a soldier in the German trenches put a small mouth organ to his frozen lips and started playing softly:
"Stille Nacht. Heilige Nacht.
Alles schläft. Einsam wacht..."
Silent Night. Holy Night.
And soldiers on both sides climbed out of the trenches and huddled together and joined in the song. For a few hours, war was no more. The next morning, the fighting and killing resumed.
Think what an ancient song can do. Think of the many songs we'll sing again. Some day.
Ingrid
Thought for the Day:
"What would Christmas be without the heavenly music which accompanies it? Where would the world be without those German composers and writers of pieces like Silent Night?"
(Ernst Zundel)