after Edip Cansever A Father, full of the joy of living, spread out his love like a cloth and laid it on the table. He put all of life there, the weak, the vulnerable, the lost He placed them on the table. Hopes and dreams, he put those there too.
As the sun illumines not only the heaven and the whole world, shining on both land and sea, but also sends rays through windows and small chinks into the furthest recesses of a house, so the Word, poured out everywhere, beholds the smallest actions of our life. Clement of Alexandria, Stromata VII.3
Balulalow O my deir hert, young Jesus sweit Prepare thy creddil in my spreit And I sall rock thee in my hert And never mair from thee depart
A poem exploring the very real experience of death and grief in lockdown and the way that God whispers in our ears at the hardest of times, bringing hope into the darkness.
St Nicholas of Myra, whose feast falls on the 6th of December, casts a shadow into the 21st century which is far greater than the actual historic record justifies. He would presumably be somewhat bewildered to come face to face with a bearded man in a big red suit sitting in a grotto in an …
Performance Notes This is a first person narrative told by Joseph to a visitor; I anticipate it being a few days after the birth and he is talking to an unnamed visitor. When I do these I avoid a full costume, but a single prop or characterful item of clothing can help get into character
