SWADDLING
CLOTHES
My days are all
white with wonder, the wonder of stitching and sewing,
making a spotless
garment for Mary’s spotless Son;
my hours are
bright with joy as I watch the small robe growing,
the little robe of
love that will compass the Infinite One.
Love is the cloth
it is made from; my heart possesses no other;
love is the
pattern, too, that I trace with unfaltering care;
love is my double
thread, the love of the Son and the mother;
woven throughout
of love, think you it will be fair?
Aye, and the
mother Mary will let her Little One wear it,
He Who has never
in aught save divinity been arrayed,
all upon Christmas
morning – O heart of me, can you bear it,
the joy of your
God apparelled in raiment your love has made!
Sister M Madeleva CSC
American
Twelfth Night
©
Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Cross
Used
with permission
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