AN EVERLASTING LIGHT

"Follow the Star", oil,
by Roxanne Steed

 Whenever I hear the Christmas song about the little town of Bethlehem, I especially notice the phrase “the everlasting light”, and it sometimes starts me thinking about the everlasting lights in my own life. One of these lights would be simple gentleness. What darkness can put out the light of gentleness? What sorrow can kill a person’s gentleness, a person’s ability to be tender toward others? True, in a tragedy it may appear that gentleness has disappeared in the smoke of misfortune, but shortly it always reappears, more durable and undying than before. Gentleness can never be vanquished, because it’s not made of bricks and mortar or bones and muscle or dollars and cents. Gentleness is like light: it looks soft, but it can shine through or around or over any problem. Gentleness is unobtrusive and sometimes unnoticeable, but, like light, it can instantly and easily destroy the deepest darkness. Perhaps what was born in the dark manger many years ago was the inextinguishable light of gentleness. Perhaps that is what I, a non-churchgoer, worship at this special time of year.