Of course, it’s never not a good time to read, but some literature is meant to be enjoyed at certain times of the year. In keeping with the spirit of the season, Christmas offers up a great bounty of stories, poems, and carols ranging from carefree and delightful to quiet and contemplative. Some are classics known to most of the English-speaking world, some are family favorites, others are new discoveries, a few may even be very personal treasures.
Over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing some of the words that move me most during this season. Here’s a bit from George MacDonald’s Adela Cathcart to begin with.
“The winter is the childhood of the year. Into this childhood of the year came the child Jesus; and into this childhood of the year must we all descend. It is as if God spoke to each of us according to our need: My son, my daughter, you are growing old and cunning; you must grow a child again, with my son, this blessed birth-time. You are growing old and careful; you must become a child. You are growing old and distrustful; you must become a child. You are growing old and petty, and weak and foolish; you must become a child — my child, like the baby there, that strong sunrise of faith and hope and love, lying in his mother’s arms in the stable.”