Snow Dream: The Epiphany

The snow drifts were two to three feet high along the streets, and the roads could only be approached by foot by the time we headed out that night. Bundled from head-to-toe, determined, we walked until we saw a light coming from the church. All else was dark save the street lamps.

The unassuming church, tightly bricked in between two other buildings, surprised me. The view when we walked in was completely unexpected. Gray marble stretched for almost an eternity and narrow stained glass windows of every color followed it. It was majestic, breathtaking, warm, and welcoming all at once.

I was amazed to see how crowded it was for an Epiphany service. I honestly don’t think I had ever attended one, but it was important to Ellie that we go.

It was finally time for the service to begin. Every wooden seat was filled. I was comforted by Ellie and her joy and enthusiasm for the Epiphany service.

Incense seemed to be wafting through the candlelit room as we all walked in a line towards the crèche. Ellie confidently walked first, knelt before the crèche, and then with an exuberant smile sacredly painted the cross upon her forehead with holy oil.

I knelt afterwards realizing it was a prayerful time to consider the gifts ­I was presenting to the baby king.

We walked back to our seats, pure joy on Ellie’s face, for she too is expecting a newborn gift.

As we were seated, paper ornaments of the sheerest weight lined with silver were handed out. Ellie turned to me with hers in hand. It was in the shape of a C, the first letter of her expected daughter’s name. It reminded me of the brilliant light of the moon. The look on her face…glorious.

This whole evening was a dream. Oh, the hope, the comfort, the joy that lives in each of our hearts and drifts into our minds at rest.

This was my snow dream. It was for Ellie, for her daughter, for her mother, for her mother’s mother, but it was for me, too, and for you, on the Epiphany.

There are always gifts waiting to be received.

With love and light,

LT