Holidailies: What Child Is This?

What child is this, who, laid to rest,
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?

There are no words to sugarcoat the pain, no tidings of joy this sad day. But perhaps tidings of comfort will rise on the winds of a nation grieving for the story of this small boy.

Two days lost in the woods, two days of anguish, a fraction of relief at his discovery, the heartbreak of his injuries, the mourning that begins.

These are small times that ope the floodgates of a nation; and when I heard, outside the snow began to fall lightly upon us—frozen tears to shroud the day.

Rest in peace, young James Delorey, may flights of angels sing you to your rest.

So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come, peasant, king, to own him.
the King of kings salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone him.

And so it goes…