I came across a short story by Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy. It is about Martin Avdéiteh, a cobbler.
As he aged, Martin suffered greatly in this life. All his children died in infancy except one son, his wife died young, and then his beloved son, Kapitón, fell ill and passed away.
Martin fell into a great depression. Despair and sorrow became his daily companions.
We are, not metaphorically but in very truth, a Divine work of art, something that God is making, and therefore something with which He will not be satisfied until it has a certain character. Here again we come up against what I have called the “intolerable compliment.” Over a sketch made idly to amuse a child, an artist may not take much trouble: he may be content to let it go even though it is not exactly as he meant it to be.
John 21 has one of the most interesting of all incidents recorded in sacred history. It’s the conversation between Jesus and Peter.
Jesus and the disciples are having breakfast. After they finish, Jesus proposes three questions to Simon Peter. The conversation goes like this as rendered in the New American Standard Bible.
“Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?”
“Yes, Lord: You know that I love You.”
“Tend My lambs.”
He said to him the second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me?”
Once a year we celebrate a festivity called Christmas
There are many elements in this gaiety known as Christmas
‘Tis the season of giving and receiving
‘Tis a musical of carols and bells
‘Tis a time of miracles and stories
‘Tis the reality of coldness and whiteness
One can find other items:
hot chocolate and marshmallows
snowballs and sleigh rides
hard hearts melting under the gentle touch of love
what shall I compare you to?
A mountain stream, running through snows of ivory?
A water lily, waving in a pond of tinted green?
A wild doe, dancing in a meadow of spring?
A proud mare, racing through African deserts of gold?
shadows of reality,
Tibetan snows tell of your purity.
Ocean depths reveal your richness.