You landed with the falling of the snow.
You arrived on the drifting winter clouds.
You awoke the broken notion of family.
You are synonymous
with the mystery
of Christmas.
You enchanted me
with the way your eyes lit up at lights.
You favored the blinking ones,
daily pointed them out.
You were both welcome and strange,
the way I always hoped my life
would be rearranged.
When I think of that day,
twenty years ago,
there is nothing I would change.
There was no better way
to celebrate this holiday,
the one about two people who adopt a baby,
the one about the God who promises to adopt
all who admit they need it, and then some,
the one about how everything is about family,
the one about the beginning of the end
of orphanages.
You are both icon and brother,
symbol and friend.
You always remind me that the lights
are not just for show.
So illuminate the night;
peel the dusk off of
the earth.
Watch each corner of our green trees glow.
Demand the evening find its morning mirth,
ask the dark "How long do you expect to slow
the soul's cascading knowledge of its worth?"
How steadily grows
hope every heart finds hearth.
You landed with the falling of the snow.
You of all people know
family
is invitation
to rebirth.