You Mary, you gave birth to God,
placed him in the poor manger,
probably your heart felt the pain
that like all other children,
he did not have his own crib,
you know, he loved the manger more,
so small and helpless,
but he was peaceful and secure,
because you and Joseph
have been watching over Him.
How you sung to him quietly,
how you hugged him,
when you would lift him on your knees,
and gently rocking him,
or when you would tell him those beautiful stories
about the old history, of Jewish,
and when you would hold him in your tender hands,
and kissed him, often you would shed a tear,
tear of happiness.
How wonderful are those early days for mothers,
how wonderful it is to have a baby,
those little hands that hug you
and big eyes that look at you,
let the universe pass, let the world end,
but mother does not see nothing but her child.
And there is something else I would
like to know,
Mother how is it up there among the stars,
how are you venerated by seraphims and cherubims
what is the Haven like when the angel’s song arises,
and you shepherds tell me,
what kind of voice do angels have,
I would like to know that
and I would like to know how it is to be close to God,
how it is when you look at Him in the face,
how is it when His light illuminates you?
And a few more things I would like to know,
can I up there hear the song of the canary,
or happy swallows
as in the summer days in my homeland,
are up there as here
beautiful meadows and flowers,
are there any clear streams and high waterfalls,
I know I’m curious but I would like to know,
if I make it to you one day,
and you know I’ll do my best to,
will I ever see that joy of Bethlehem?
Will I be able to see little Christ
and what was it like in the holy night?
You know, that’s what I would like to know.
I know you hear me, Mother,
maybe your smile was elicited by
my child’s desire,
but we were all childrens once,
we were all joys of our mothers,
although I’m not a kid anymore,
I would be sorry
to extinguish my childish dreams in me,
let it remain some of the joys of childhood,
let it remain some memory of smallness,
let it remain a bit of Christmas in me.
Nikola Dominis _ Croatia
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