Saturday, December 13, 2008

Twelve Days of Christmas: Day Two

I have my Constitutional Law final tomorrow afternoon, and as soon as I post this to Holidailies, I'm headed to bed. My legs feel like tree trunks, my ankles and feet look like balloons, and my head is swimming after a 10 hour study marathon. If anyone wants to give me some pointers on the analysis of substantive due process and how to identify a dormant commerce clause issue, feel free. Tomorrow after the final, we're going to do some baby shopping and then hopefully get the house slightly cleaned up in anticipation of the holidays and the impending arrival. If luck stays with us, we may have a baby before Christmas.

Today's musical selection hits me in two places. It's probably not as well known as much of the rest of the Christmas music canon, but it's fantastic in its simplicity, and has stuck with me since the first time I heard it.

First, it is a beautiful madrigal. We sung it in high school, a cappella, in womens' voice. It was part of choir and also part of the school's annual madrigal festival/dinner, which was a large part of my high school experience. I remember thinking the sentiment was lovely: it seems that the Three Wise Men weren't the only ones to visit the newborn Jesus in the manger. I like to think that a woman called upon two of her friends to bring a torch and visit the baby, reminding each other to admire, but stay quiet, so as not to disturb the quiet of His new life.

In a way, it reminds me of the old Christmas adage: if there had been Three Wise Women instead of Three Wise Men, they would have asked for directions, arrived early, brought a casserole, helped deliver the baby and cleaned up afterward.

The song is slightly more elegant in sentiment.

The second place this song hits me, especially this year, is that my good friend Jen delivered her third baby on Thursday. Baby V. is a tiny little peanut of a thing, not even 6.5 pounds. She's the spitting image of her mother, and the perfect addition to Jen's family. They are home and resting, and seem to be in fine fettle. I can't help but think that my little one will be with us shortly, and I can only hope that I come through this birth with as much grace and dignity as Jen.

Bring A Torch, Jeanette, Isabella

Hush, hush! Beautiful is the mother...
Hush, hush! Beautiful is the child...

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