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Kangaroo Korner from Mary Lee

posted Oct 27, 2013, 11:28 AM by Bowmansville UMC   [ updated Oct 27, 2013, 11:34 AM ]

Welcome back to our story and to this glorious month of Thanksgiving celebrations.  We continue with the excerpted writings of Paul O'Neill for the Trans Siberian Orchestra.

Chapter 3--The Angel and the Father


  "As he flew o'er Sarajevo there were scars upon the land.

   There were scars upon the people-it was hard to understand.

   And the deepest scars of all, which to humans are unseen,

   But the angel could see clearly, were the scars upon the dreams.

   Like Belfast and Burundi, Rwanda, Palestine,

   The only decorations here had been awarded for their crimes.

   And in gardens where the children played, now soldiers only trod;

   And stranger still, he heard some say that they were killing for their God.

   Now the angel heard God speak many times, and he had always paid attention;

   But the killing of one's neighbor was something the Lord had never mentioned.

   But as he neared the earth of a recent battleground,

   From among the ruins he once more heard the sound...

   It was a single cello playing a forgotten Christmas song;

  And even on that battlefield the song somehow belonged.

   And as he flew away, the angel did take note

   That where he found this music played, one always could find hope.


But something was still missing, or at least, so our angel still thought.  And so he journeyed on through the midnight winter air until he suddenly felt the touch of a father's prayer on its way to heaven.  This man was praying for his child whom he had not heard from in a long time and who would not be home that Christmas. 

The angel, once again looking downward,

   Saw a man alone, though he was walking in a crowd.

   And though this man had rarely prayed, tonight his head was bowed.

   For even in a crowd, you see, a heart can feel alone

   When the night is Christmas Eve, and a child is not at home.

And the father prayed:


'There is an ornament lost inside the night.  No one can see her, she's standing all alone.  Somewhere she glistens where no one can see.  I don't believe I can say what happened--all of those words that we put into play no longer matter.  Come, Christmas.  Stay, Christmas.  Watch over her this day.  Keep her, protect her from harm now in every way.  Shelter her gently.  There in your arms she'll be until the day when you bring her back home to me.'


   So from a father to the lord a prayer did swiftly race,

   But the angel saw it first and he listened to its case.

   After he had heard the prayer the angel gently set it free,

   And followed it until it reached the father's lost child in a faraway city."


Next Time:  The Rescuer/The Angel Understands


Love to you always,  Mary