Holidays

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Worship

I am riding on the back of a camel, on a starry, starry night. My journey brings me to a cold, stoney, little insignificant village, as ordinary-looking as an old blanket. Yet something electric is in the air. It is something mystifying; yet subtle and calm. I dismount at an old inn. I am told that I can find no lodging; nor is there anything of any interest going on at all in town this night. Life is so dull here. But, if I want, I may water and feed my beast at the grotto behind the inn. But there, in the half light of the moon, and a few small lamps, I am struck almost stone-cold dead by the face of a small child; such light and life eminating from him. I do not know him, nor the parents who surround him; and yet instantly...I do know! My soul is cast immediately upon its face to the ground, and my body follows. There is much fear and trepidation, joy and anticipation. I cannot seem to know whether to be happy or scared; yet I seem to feel both at once. It is as if my wildest dream has come true; yet the fiercest of kings stands with sword point pressed into my heart, all at the same moment. I do not understand a single feeling I experience; nor what is taking place before me. All I can do is to remain prostrate, and worship.

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