Across the Editor's Desk
BY THE TIME YOU GET TO THIS PAGE YOU HAVE A PRETTY GOOD IDEA of what our special joy in this bright season means to us in AA, as limned by some of our correspondents. We found those same jubilant echoes awakening here where the clattering type and the humming rhythms of the press joined the choir in the frosty starlight.
And around the tree--evergreen--we, the children from a darker night, link hearts again with life remembering our own chance to be reborn on this festival that celebrates A Birth. The light from the farthest and littlest star and the tiniest candle shall be enough and we are humbly grateful for that happy glow that now responds from somewhere down here in our new being.
This is the time for those close to birth. . .for children like my own. . .and me. And I must watch them closely as they crowd the tree for I have much to learn of this new childhood.
How do they receive? This I must learn: the fresh gratitude, the decent humble thanks, the happy revelation of perennial newness, the simple faith in the miracle. I must learn from their receiving that this is the way things really are. . .not measured by material standards but by an intrinsic quality that came in the stillness of the night to touch each gift however mean.
Do they ask from whence it came? No. The singing space is too big to ask. Better say it came on the wind. . .and down the chimney. That's answer enough. But it's here, bright on the hearth, the tree, and in the eyes of children. And that's the important thing. . .to them and to me.
So, twice-born and awkward I stand, the newest of the lot. But they know what to do and I shall try to follow them. The tree and the glorious night bear my amends that I shall try to make.
A small package for each and each in its time. . .God grant the giving shall carry half the spirit of their receiving.
And a Merrie Christmas for every today.