Just got info on Mr. Husband's
Christmas Party.
*
I think I will need prayer for this one.
I know what to do to survive;
focus on others and pray.
And be present to the beauty and take pictures.
This will make it good, even very good.
And it's on St. Nicholas Day night and
we can eat fish.
*
It's the crowds and noise that worry me most.
I will have to fight back that worry
and be thankful.
*
Reminds me of this poem by Jane Kenyon.
*
May 1987
After the dinner party
by Jane Kenyon
A late-blooming burgundy hollyhock sways
across the kitchen window in a light breeze
as I draw a tumbler of well-water at the sink.
We’re face to face, as in St. Paul’s Epistles
or the later novels of Henry James.
The cold rains of autumn have begun.
Driving to Hanover I must have seen
a thousand frogs in the headlights
crossing the gleaming road. Like sheep urged
by a crouching dog they converged
and flowed. They do it every fall.
I couldn’t help hitting some.
At dinner I laughed with the rest,
but in truth I prefer the sound
of pages turning, and coals shifting
abruptly in the stove. I left before ten
pleading a long drive home.
The smell of woodsmoke hung
over small villages along the way.
I passed the huge cold gray stone
buildings left by the chaste Shakers.
Any window will still open with one finger. ...
Christmas Party.
*
I think I will need prayer for this one.
I know what to do to survive;
focus on others and pray.
And be present to the beauty and take pictures.
This will make it good, even very good.
And it's on St. Nicholas Day night and
we can eat fish.
*
It's the crowds and noise that worry me most.
I will have to fight back that worry
and be thankful.
*
Reminds me of this poem by Jane Kenyon.
*
May 1987
After the dinner party
by Jane Kenyon
A late-blooming burgundy hollyhock sways
across the kitchen window in a light breeze
as I draw a tumbler of well-water at the sink.
We’re face to face, as in St. Paul’s Epistles
or the later novels of Henry James.
The cold rains of autumn have begun.
Driving to Hanover I must have seen
a thousand frogs in the headlights
crossing the gleaming road. Like sheep urged
by a crouching dog they converged
and flowed. They do it every fall.
I couldn’t help hitting some.
At dinner I laughed with the rest,
but in truth I prefer the sound
of pages turning, and coals shifting
abruptly in the stove. I left before ten
pleading a long drive home.
The smell of woodsmoke hung
over small villages along the way.
I passed the huge cold gray stone
buildings left by the chaste Shakers.
Any window will still open with one finger. ...
Hang in there, Elizabeth. Completely understand and share your apprehension. This year the office party was on a launched boat - there was nowhere to escape. But remember the utter joy of relief you will have once it is all done and over...you can do it. Keep your hand on your prayer rope.
ReplyDeleteDear Elizabeth, don't worry I know that St. Nicholas will be there for you, he gave you a hand to pick the right outfit for that night and also beside you is your Mr. Husband to support and encourage you. I'll pray for you that night. Between prayers take deep breaths and smile and they will smile back at you. It's an advice somebody gave me and it works. :)
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