Poem
The Wicked Fairy at the Manger
My gift for the child:
No wife, kids, home;
No money sense. Unemployable.
Friends, yes. But the wrong sort -
The workshy, women, the ill
Petty infringers of the law, persons
With notifiable diseases,
Poll tax collectors, tarts;
The bottom rung.
........His end?
I think we'll make it
Public, prolonged, painful.
Right, said the baby. That was roughly
What we had in mind.
UA Fanthorpe
Reflection
This poem picks up the theme of the pantomimes, the wicked fairy trying to make life difficult. But what the poem reminds us that when Christ came, he knew exactly what was coming, that his life wouldn’t be a fairy tale, he could have changed things, but He didn’t, He came anyway, because of His love for us.
Prayer
Lord
We thank you for coming
For living among us
Despite the way we treated you,
The scorn, the violence and the pain
Thank you for your love and for paying the ultimate sacrifice
Amen
No comments:
Post a Comment