A day off in the hot Northeast. Cindy, our Havanese, and I floated in the pond. Bliss. I dozed, and, again, I heard the Christmas hymn, Good King Wenceslas, buzzing in my brain.
What? Christmas is five months away (and our first grandson's first birthday!), so why do I hear the Good King's story? Truthfully, it has been going on for years...the song is often what I wake up to in the early morning. Until I looked up the full set of lyrics, I couldn't figure out why my unconscious was reminding me of the carol. The last two lines are the message I need to hear:
Ye who now will bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.
The story is of a wealthy man who, with one of his servants, provides a fine meal on a cold winter's night to a poor man.
Good King Wenceslas looked out,
On the Feast of Stephen,
When the snow lay round about,
Deep and crisp and even;
Brightly shone the moon that night,
Tho' the frost was cruel,
When a poor man came in sight,
Gath'ring winter fuel.
"Hither, page, and stand by me,
If thou know'st it, telling,
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?"
"Sire, he lives a good league hence,
Underneath the mountain;
Right against the forest fence,
By Saint Agnes' fountain."
"Bring me flesh, and bring me wine,
Bring me pine logs hither:
Thou and I will see him dine,
When we bear them thither."
Page and monarch, forth they went,
Forth they went together;
Thro' the rude wind's wild lament
And the bitter weather.
"Sire, the night is darker now,
And the wind blows stronger;
Fails my heart, I know not how,
I can go no longer."
Mark my footsteps, good my page;
Tread thou in them boldly:
Thou shalt find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly."
In his master's steps he trod,
Where the snow lay dinted;
Heat was in the very sod
Which the saint had printed.
Therefore, Christian men, be sure,
Wealth or rank possessing,
Ye who now will bless the poor,
Shall yourselves find blessing.
I agree! Shall we all bless the poor?
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