Genesis in January
It is a strange feeling to be utterly dependent for everything on the help of others. But in any case, one learns in such times to be grateful and hopefully not forget it later. In normal life one is often not at all aware that we always receive infinitely more than we give, and that gratitude is what enriches life. One easily overestimates the importance of one's own acts and deeds, compared with what we become only through other people.
~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer ~
Apologies for the absence; I’ve been happily distracted for a bit. Regular newsletters should resume in February.
In the meantime, please welcome our son Willington Nicholas Cole to “the enormous mural of the world.”
Mother and baby are simply lovely. Happy New Year and we’ll see you soon!
And of course, a poem. Here’s Patrick Kavanagh:
Birth
We will not hold an inquest on the past—
The Word died, the mistake was made, the sin
Was committed as the wheel turned again
And again, exactly as it had turned last.
In the mornings we made promises to ourselves as the fresh
Air of the street gave us that springtime feeling
That is to say, sad hope. Our wills were willing
And plenty of years in the future said, wish your wish.
Yet there was something of the dead past polluting
The New Word we had created out of the water and the spirit
And everything seemed over bar the shouting
When out of the holy mouth came angelic grace
And the will that had fought had found new merit
And all sorts of beautiful things appeared in that place.
Thanks for reading! For more commonplace stuff, you can go to tinyroofnail.micro.blog. Or you can email me at tinyroofnail@hey.com. Or you can just wait for next month's newsletter.