Nothing Blesses More Than Love: Share Your Plenty
It just got quiet. My two just left with Pops, to grab pastries from the old German bakery downtown. It’s their Saturday tradition.
So it’s just me, Phoenix, Phinnegan, and the Christmas playlist.
Hallelujahs, sleigh bells, thumpity thump thump, and “Mary Did You Know?” take their various moments in the mix. It makes our home a warm, welcoming place. Even in the chaos. It’s so much a part of what makes my heart relax, and even find peace amidst the business of the season.
Right now, a piano instrumental “Good King Wenceslas” is playing. I see him in the snow, trudging in the cold to help a fellow man. It occurs to me that oftentimes we bless our fellow man with money or gifts, but nothing blesses more than giving them love, acceptance, the ability to work, learn, and find the dignity to thrive. Once their immediate needs are met, the teaching and skills help them in return, help others.
I’m grateful for my blessings. Isn’t it wonderful that the season of giving follows a season of gratefulness and thankfulness? It is gratefulness for our blessings that helps us desire to give with abundance to others.
Open your grateful eyes and heart to those with needs around you. Some need acceptance and love, others sustenance like food and water, others a job, some need a hug and shared time to talk and visit.
As the song lyrics say, both page and monarch — share your plenty. There are so many ways to give.
Good King Wenceslas
By John Mason Neale
Good King Wenceslas look’d out,
On the Feast of Stephen;
When the snow lay round about,
Deep, and crisp, and even:
Brightly shone the moon that night,
Though the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight,
Gath’ring winter fuel.
“Hither page and stand by me,
If thou know’st it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?”
“Sire, he lives a good league hence.
Underneath the mountain;
Right against the forest fence,
By Saint Agnes’ fountain.”
“Bring me flesh,and bring me wine,
Bring me pine-logs hither:
Thou and I will see him dine,
When we bear them thither.”
Page and monarch forth they went,
Forth they went together;
Through the rude wind’s wild lament,
And the bitter weather.
“Sire, the night is darker now,
And the wind blows stronger;
Fails my heart, I know now how,
I can go no longer.”
“Mark my footsteps, good my page;
Tread thou in them boldly;
Thou shalt find the winter’s rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly.”
In his master’s steps he trod,
Where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.