The life of the enchanted globe became
A storm of sweetness and of light and song,
A revel of colour and of ecstasy,
A hymn of rays, a litany of cries:
A strain of choral priestly music sang
And, swung on the swaying censer of the trees,
A sacrifice of perfume filled the hours.
A storm of sweetness and of light and song,
A revel of colour and of ecstasy,
A hymn of rays, a litany of cries:
A strain of choral priestly music sang
And, swung on the swaying censer of the trees,
A sacrifice of perfume filled the hours.
(Book four, Canto one)
25th December –
the Christmas tree was decorated and installed in the middle of the Playground.
Everyone was gay. The Mother wore a beautiful brocade dress and sat near the
tree to distribute gifts to everyone with her love and blessings.
The band played some tunes,
and there were songs and entertainments by the school children.
All this was new to me, for
we had never had a Christmas tree in our house. Now I was watching, learning
and assimilating, trying to perceive the meaning of all this.
The Mother’s invocation to Father Christmas:
Father
Christmas.
I evoke you
today!
Answer our
call. Come bearing all your marvellous gifts. You are the great dispenser of
worldly possessions; you are the untiring friend who hears every request and
grants it generously. Give each one the material object he desires, and as for
me, give me enough, give me much so that I may give largely to all.
(An excerpt from ‘Story of the Soul’, By Huta, Havyavahana Trust,
Puducherry)
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