...to my granddaughter, to her parents (house feeling rather empty), to 2007 (I hate Hogmanay) and to one or two other bits of my life so far, to which I shall return in a mo. But first, I'm going to do what other bloggers do, and look back at what's happened in the past year.
First, of course, there was our American odyssey, a trip I still look back on in some wonder, from which I learned that Scotland is even smaller than I thought and that there are many, many people for whom it doesn't exist. I was Lay Rector of a Cursillo weekend. And most importantly and life-changeingly, Catriona arrived , late enough to keep up the family tradition of cutting it fine.
Apart from all that, I wrote a few more poems, in a sudden burst of ... whatever it is that makes poems happen, and had the strange experience of hearing a carol originally written with me in mind ( and some of my words) sung in front of a huge audience in a very famous venue.
But maybe the greatest change happened in the past week, when the presence of very young babies at both the Christmas morning mass and the day on which we read about the slaughter of the innocents put all ritual and all dogma into the shade and brought home the liveliness of love which lies at the heart of the Incarnation. I used to be totally hooked on all the ritual and colour of a high Anglican service - but if it lacks humanity and love it conveys nothing of the God who came to us in human form.
I shall still look for beauty, and for the music to be in tune - but ritual is made to be disrupted, and we have to be able to laugh with the angels. So here's to all the babies who made Christmas special - and reminded us where we started. Till next year ...
Here's to them!!
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