Once upon a winter's night
the snowflakes gathered on the ground;
while through a tattered cloud-filled sky
the moon and stars stood shining down.
‘Twas in the early morning hours
long before the light of dawn
we headed west on empty road
through ice and snow, we traveled on.
You were not anxious to arrive,
I paced the floor and spoke in tongues—
we waited hours for you to come
then finally...the struggle done.
As daylight once again rolled dark
our December babe was born
our hope, our gift, and our delight
to love and cherish, evermore...
© Ginny Brannan 2013
Sharing at The Mag #199. Image provided by Tess Kincaid, she provides the image, we the story!
For us, Christmas will always bring to mind two December babies—one born in a stable long ago; and one born shortly after 7 pm on 12/23/85. Two different children to be sure, one would be the hope for All Nations, one the simple pride of his mom and dad. And did I speak "in tongues"? You betcha--just ask the husband, who will be happy to share the tales!