a moment in the rushing...

A moment in the rushing...
The shortest day of the year, winter solstice, a dark sky beyond our kitchen window; we are frantically preparing for our carol service. Gathering together last minute things to create a children's nativity; the Christmas story to be fondly retold in the time honoured tradition of little children dressed in tea towels, tinsel and paper crowns. Mary, taking on the cherished role to stand beside the manger almost as if she were again the mother of the baby king. Our hall the waiting room of boxes and bags of things that need to be transported to church, with hairbrush in one hand and coat in another, breakfast things to be cleared away, people coming for lunch, we fill the dish washer and straighten the cushions... what to do, things to do, the frazzled attempt to make it all right and bring everything and not forget anything. Then we stop, as the bright rising light swathes the dark backdrop of early morning winter sunrise; sweeping across the wide expanse of sky white birds reflecting the sunshine swooping down and up and around. We breathe in the beauty of an unexpected moment of serenity, amidst the crazy doing and the mad rushing and the thoughtless preparation. To what end? When here before us the shortest day of time begins with a silent display of the creator God who silently taps the deepest heart and opens up His purpose beyond the sticky tape and fairy lights a far greater beauty that we almost miss and all too soon the sky has turned to sultry grey and the sunlight fades and the day moves on. We go again but this time with deeper heart throb, packing the car, opening the church and re-creating that Christmas story, knowing that He who came as a baby, who paints the sky deep blue, whose twinkling stars looked upon Himself in the softness of a newborn baby, and allows the sun to shine so clear and bright, once more brings hope and love and a silent moment of belonging to our Christmas rushing.

only a dog.

I am sitting at the computer it's quiet, its evening, it's been cold...a loud thud. I look out of the window but I cannot see anything, then I look again,to hear the piercing scream and howl of a young girl.
Venturing outside, we see them.
A young girl huddled over her precious dog who lies pitifully limp and soaked in blood,the girl howls again.
The car has gone, the car that hit the dog leaves behind this painful picture.
We stand helplessly, 'my mam's coming' cries the girl and we try to direct the traffic, my neighbour goes to fetch a blanket and we all look helplessly at this little bundle of grief.
Mammy arrives, taking a deep breath and comforts her daughter and brings another blanket for the little friend who is no more, tears welling in her own motherly eyes.
The girls pal just stands and watches, her face white and her her lip quivering.
We go back indoors, leaving behind this little family of whom we never knew before, a shrug, a sorry and words cannot share their grief.
Losing a pet they loved, hearing the dreadful thud as the car hit ,taking away the little playmate and leaving a young girl to cry.
The rain comes and washes away the thick blood that stains the road and wipes away the story that I now tell, while knowing that this brief encounter tonight has brought someone such sadness.
Only a dog, only a friend, only part of a life that's gone forever..