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Some see a star from 2000 years ago. Some see others far deeper in space and time. But there is a closer star shining. You don’t need to look into the night sky, you don’t need a telescope.
You just need to look into a child’s eyes when they are lit with wonder. It is a light pure, radiant with the intensity of the unknowable.
It rises from a deep well of mystery and magic. To see a child’s face experience it is something to hold on to with a fierce grip. For time being what it is, a conqueror, this glow of wonder will in most people’s lives be the passing stranger fading into the years. To feel it later takes, somewhat counterintuitively, a determination to shun the tentacles of the everyday world.
Few things are as wondrous as the joy of a child.Credit: Photo: Supplied
The Oxford defines wonder as “a feeling of amazement and admiration, caused by something beautiful, remarkable, or unfamiliar”. An example, “he observed the intricacy of the ironwork with the wonder of a child”.
And wonder’s companion is joy. They will both soon enter the homes of families who celebrate Christmas. If one can do the nigh impossible and shunt the commercialisation of Christmas into a locked room, and immerse oneself in counting blessings as like the stars in the sky, then the wonder of a child is transcendental.
If only the wonder of children could be harnessed, used as a power source. For if ever there were a time and place for wonder and joy, it is now. To quote the Beatles’ A Day in the Life, “I read the news to day, oh boy …” From Ukraine to Israel and Gaza, from the refugee camps and the millions of people displaced globally from conflict, there is pain and hardship and little wonder. This time of year, too, also accentuates loneliness. To evoke Tolstoy, “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Similarly, with individuals.
Of course, there is good news and there is bad news. But overwhelmingly, the bad news has the numbers and shouts the loudest and lamentably the longest. Tears of sorrow flow wider than the tears of joy. Finding faith in people, then, is a tough ask. But it’s there, like an eighth wonder of the world.
It’s there when you see the wonder in a child’s eyes.
One of music’s most spiritual songwriters is Bruce Cockburn. He wrote a song called World of Wonders.
An extract is:
“Moment of peace like brief Arctic bloom
Red-gold ripple of the sun going down
Line of black hills makes my bed
Sky full of love pulled over my head.”
This then is the gift: having faith in the wonder.
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