He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and pain.
The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others’ burdens, easing other’s loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas.
No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.
You look at it, but it is not to be seen; Its name is Formless. You listen to it, but it is not to be heard; Its name is Soundless. You grasp it, but it is not to be held; Its name is Bodiless. These three elude all scrutiny. And hence they blend and become one.
