In the Episcopal Church, we celebrate the season of Advent during the month before Christmas. No carols in services until the 24th (some parishes won't even have a pageant until then) and our focus is encouraged to be on the waiting- I always get a little annoyed at the bombarding I must endure from the world- and how we sing carols through January when everyone else is sick of them- until I thought of the births of my own children- how I prepared joyfully, hopefully, with fear. So to close my poem-a-day challenge from Writers Digest, I offer this as my last poem in November.
I used to hate December- the noise,
the expense, the false good cheer-
until I thought about having a baby-
decorating the nursery, humming
soft lullabies to my swelling belly,
going to showers, buying special toys;
how in the month before I counted
days, awake with anticipation, my
own advent vigil for a miracle child
who would save me from sadness,.
give me the opportunity to do what
my parent’s couldn’t- raise a child
in love with life, self assured, strong
enough to take on the world, for me.