A Christmas story
Our homework project from the last Chester Writers meeting was to retell the Christmas story from a different point of view: the innkeeper’s sister in law or an insect in the straw of the manger, or so on. I chose for my point of view an Ophan (one of the scarier-looking angelic beings) stuck up in heaven, not allowed to the party. It came out a little more sentimental than I intended considering I’m not a remotely religious person, but I thought I’d share it with you for Christmas.
The new star was closer than the people below, crawling in the dirt like so many ants, their image divided and repeated into kaleidoscope infinities. The Lord of the Flames, Throne of the Lord, curator of the celestial cycle, watched new human life in multiple from Its seat in Heaven and consolidated the image into one picture: desperate cold and discomfort and a squalling, bloody baby born against the odds in a strange town.
If It could, the Ophan might have wondered why the creator of all light would choose such a fragile and ephemeral vessel for His Word, but the Ophan does not exist to question but to glorify, and It knows that fleeting things and eternal things are merely opposite sides to a coin.
A wheel within a wheel, covered in many eyes – so many eyes, compound, like the eyes of insects. It saw from afar the scene in a long ago stable. Whilst the lower Choirs rejoiced on earth, the Ophan kept watch in the Most High, because even holy babies would be afraid to look upon It, and from each and every eye, a tear fell.
Hope you have a smashing holiday and all the best for 2011.