Solstice.

Winter solstice, when the sun seems to stand still in heaven, watching for the Baby to be born. -Luci Shaw

“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sounds the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. -Robert Frost

Of course I know that Christmas should probably be celebrated in the spring, and that it is only celebrated in late December because of pagan rituals. But is it okay for me to confess that I like it being just after “the darkest evening of the year?” Because I do. To have the hope of Christmas shining in such a dark time seems just right to me, and I am thankful that, every year, in the midst of the bleakness of winter (I live in the Northern Hemisphere, you see), we experience the darkness . . . and then the marvelous, miraculous light.

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