December 24th
Christmas Eve!
This is a photograph I took of a brilliant painting by Artist Soren Hawkes.
To see more of his fabulous work (which you can buy) go to: http://passchendaeleprints.com
John 1:1-5
The Word became flesh
In the
beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things
were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him
was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light
shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
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Click on the arrow to hear Hayley Westenra and Aled Jones sing Silent Night whilst you read the poem
Christmas Eve, 1914 - a silence covered the land as shelling and rifle-fire ceased. Singing was heard from the enemy trenches and a truce was enjoyed, when peace came down at Christmas.
A Photograph of the site today can be found at: http://www.battlefieldsandbeyond.com/2011/12/1914-christmas-truce.html
December
1914
Night
turned a clear frost,
the
moon’s harsh splendour
veiling
the sleeping green.
Belonging
to no-one
but
those
whose
eternal slumber
hopeless
strewn
stilled
the darkness
between.
Torn
fields fell silent,
hushed
and
eerily still.
Anguished
limbs cradled,
sore,
weary bodies
resting
on mud
and
damp straw.
Wood
from trees,
shelled
and torn
kindled
fires
slowly
coaxed into life
on
the eve of Christmas morn.
A
mouth-organ rendered
a
carolling tune.
Flames
leapt higher
to
warm
frost-fastened
mud.
A
combatant choir
merried
the night
distant
gunnery rumbles
accompanying
served
to remind.
A
radiant host shone
beyond
the sleeping green.
Glistening
stars of light
danced
along enemy lines.
Edging
the trenches
with
brightness, and then
in
a language strange and deep
the
singing of carols
echoed
the
earlier refrain,
on
the eve of Christmas morn.
Sleep
was evasive,
in
the frozen fields,
until
darkness
slowly
crumbled away.
In
the mist-filled dawn
myriad
lanterns
still
sparkled and shone.
Then
a greeting was called:
“Frohe Weihnachten,”
A
Christmas Day wish
from
the adversary.
Grey
soldiers moved forward
their
hands held no guns,
Maxims
were muted,
calumet,
quiet;
the
fallen had been laid to rest
in
the snow dusted earth.
Howitzers
were hushed and calm.
Tommys
walked out to welcome:
“Come and join our celebration,”
Peace
was the holy day’s gift.
An
unforeseen barrier
broken
down
language
of gesture was seen.
The
Kaiser’s cigars
for
tobacco exchanged.
A
button, a belt badge,
offered
in trust.
Princess
Mary’s puddings
a
Eucharist shared,
all
around
cold
gusts thrilled the air.
Stille
Nacht, heilige Nacht,
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Alles schläft; einsam wacht
Voices
faded and fell back
behind
the lines.
Da
uns schlägt die rettende Stund
The hour of salvation strikes
The hour of salvation strikes
for
us.
Christ,
der Retter ist da!
Christ, the saviour is here.
Christ, the saviour is here.
With
gladness they moved,
to
sleep soundly that night
gifts
and souvenirs
held
safe
in
frozen hands.
Reminders
of sharing
an
armistice day;
Friede auf erden,
wohlwollen für alle menschen.
A Christmas Truce, indeed.
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