(with apologies to those who have already read this one...)
She was 4, a pixie-child with short hair, half curly and half straight. She climbed up on the chair, pushed her glasses up on her nose, took a deep breath, and began to sing:
Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are
Way up in the sky so high, like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are
Way up in the sky so high, like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are
Way up in the sky so high, like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are
Way up in the sky so high, like a diamond in the sky
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are…
The rest of her family was gathered around for the concert, waiting to clap. We’d had the Twinkle, piano version, cello version, and probably teenage mutant ninja turtle version...and the vocal version was the climax. Then, and only then, could we get to opening Christmas Eve presents. The nightmare began when the song would not end. Every time the song should have ended, it just circled back on itself and started again. The child’s face began to reflect concern, then consternation, then crisis. She could not escape the twinkles.
Ultimately, the giggles and guffaws from a loving family gave way to singing together the final line tune and ending the concert. Presents were opened and eyes were closed at the end of a long Christmas Eve. But every time I hear the Twinkle song, I think back to that most significant twinkling star.
There we are, thinking we could sing our songs and save our souls, and as we try over and over to get out of the mess, we just get in deeper and deeper. No matter how hard we try or how simple it would seem to be, we cannot escape the repetition of our sinful nature.
So we look to the Star and we celebrate joining the heavenly chorus that lifts us out of our cycles of despair and into the hope of Christmas.
No comments:
Post a Comment