Poems & Prose for the Winter Solstice!

Dear Members, Alumni, and Friends of the JSMT:

The Winter Solstice arrives on Sunday, December 21^st at 5:03 PM (CST) – heralding the shortest day and the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s time for celebrations, family feasts, evergreens and lights, storytelling, and poetry! Here are a few selections to make your holiday season merry and bright.

“The Night Before Finals”

By Yours Truly (2005)

‘Twas the night before finals, and all through the dorm,

Not a student was sleeping, for that was the norm.

When on the South Quad there arose such a clatter,

Students rose from their books to see what was the matter.

And there on the face of the new-fallen snow

A message was written in letters aglow.

A scribe unbeknownst on the snowfield did write:

“A kewl Yule to you all, and to all a good night!”

“The North Wind Doth Blow”

(Traditional English Rhyme – 16^th Century)

The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow.

And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?

He’ll sit in a barn, and keep himself warm,

And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.

The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow.

And what will the dormouse do then, poor thing?

Rolled up like a ball, in his nest snug and small,

He’ll sleep till warm weather comes in, poor thing.

The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow.

And what will the children do then, poor things?

When lessons are done, they must skip, hop, and run,

Until they have made themselves warm, poor things.

“The Oxen”

By Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)

Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.

“Now they are all on their knees,"

An elder said as we sat in a flock

By the embers in hearthside ease.

We pictured the meek mild creatures where

They dwelt in their strawy pen,

Nor did it occur to one of us there

To doubt they were kneeling then.

So fair a fancy few would weave

In these years! Yet, I feel,

If someone said on Christmas Eve,

“Come; see the oxen kneel,

“In the lonely barton by yonder coomb

Our childhood used to know,"

I should go with him in the gloom,

Hoping it might be so.


[Here's a one-page article, which I wrote six years ago, about the Winter Solstice and how and why people celebrate it – in many and various ways – throughout the Northern Hemisphere. The celebrations may appear to be different on the surface, but if we look more closely, we can see that they all have much more in common than might at first appear. -- RHC]

SEASONAL REFLECTIONS by RHC

First Published in Ultreia III:3-4 (Autumn/Holiday 2008)

 

       As 2008 draws to a close, people in the Northern Hemisphere of our planet are preparing to celebrate a wide variety of Midwinter holidays. Although there are vast differences in these celebrations, which vary by culture, nation, and religion, their overarching themes are quite similar, and most of them are derived from a common astronomical source. Each year as the Midwinter Solstice (December 21-22) approaches, the days grow shorter and colder, and the Sun’s circular journey across the daytime sky is far lower than it was at Midsummer in June. To the skywatchers of the ancient world, it appeared as if the Sun – the source of growth, light, and warmth – was dying. Then, shortly after the longest night of the year, something amazing happened! The Sun began to rejuvenate and started to climb higher in the sky each day. Eventually, more light and warmth returned to the world, and springtime would invariably arrive several weeks later.

       This annual event – the metaphorical “death and rejuvenation” of the Sun at the Midwinter Solstice – was definitely something worth celebrating. Human life could go on because the Sun came back from oblivion! Light overcame darkness; warmth banished the cold; hope replaced despair; and life defeated death. Decorating with candles and evergreens became a widespread custom in many nations as people celebrated the return of the Sun’s light and the promise of Nature’s renewal that it brought to the wintry world. These are the themes that the major Midwinter holidays of the Northern Hemisphere share in common.

       In both Asian and European mythologies, the annual rejuvenation of the Sun was expressed in many symbolic ways. One of the most famous legends related to the Midwinter Solstice is the tale of the phoenix bird. According to the most widespread tradition, there was only one phoenix alive in the world at any given time. The bird was adorned with beautiful crimson, golden, and violet plumage, and it built its next of spices in the Arabian Desert. Every 500 years, the elderly phoenix would burst into flames and die – but from its ashes would arise a new, young phoenix to live for another five centuries. The newborn phoenix, as soon as it could fly, would carry the bones and ashes of its former self to the temple of the Sun in Heliopolis, Egypt, where the priests would note in their chronicles that a new “phoenix cycle” had begun. From an astronomical perspective, the death, immolation, and rebirth of the phoenix could have symbolized the annual cycle of the seasons, in which the Sun “dies” of old age at the Midwinter Solstice, only to rejuvenate and ascend into the heavens once again with the approach of springtime.

ABOVE: This is an illustration of the legendary phoenix bird from the 12th-century Aberdeen Bestiary. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

       As the world awaits the beginning of 2009, we would do well to remember these practical yet profound insights from the skywatchers and mythmakers of antiquity. Empires rise and fall; economies wax and wane; and scientific knowledge continues to increase exponentially. Yet the seasons still come and go on time each year; summer and winter, seedtime and harvest return in their predictable order. The Universe is not a haphazard place, but it is governed by natural laws that allow human life to continue from one generation to the next.

       For the Editor, the core message of all the Midwinter holidays is best summed up in this poem by one of his favorite authors, George MacDonald (1824-1905):

“A Song of Suns and Seasons”

By George MacDonald (1824-1905)

Excerpted from At the Back of the North Wind [1871], Chapter 37

The Sun is gone down, and the Moon’s in the sky;

But the Sun will come up, and the Moon be laid by.

The flower is asleep, but it is not dead;

When the morning shines, it will lift its head.

When winter comes, it will die – no, no;

It will only hide from the frost and the snow.

Sure is the summer, sure is the Sun;

The night and the winter are shadows that run.

Quotemail will return to its regular fortnightly schedule on Friday, January 9^th, 2015. In the meantime, may the calendar keep bringing Happy Holidays to you! :)

Rob

December 2015 Leadership Reflection

December Leadership Reflection:

Overcoming Limitations with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

       Author’s Note: This essay first appeared as my Presidential column in the Secretariat’s newsletter for December 2007. It also appeared in last December’s Secretariat newsletter and is being reprinted here again, in a slightly revised and expanded form, because of its ongoing relevance seven years later, as the University of Illinois continues to move forward with campuswide initiatives to promote diversity, inclusivity, and leadership studies (hegemontology).

       As far back as I can remember, one of my favorite Yuletide stories has always been the heroic tale of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, which is based on a poem of the same name by Robert L. May from 1939. Rudolph, you may recall, was born “different” from “all of the other reindeer.” His nose glowed red, and as he was growing up, his youthful peers never let him forget it. He was excluded from the others’ reindeer games because he wasn’t “normal” like everyone else. We all know, of course, that the story had a happy ending. Because of his uniquely talented “nose so bright,” Rudolph was able to lead Santa Claus’ gift-giving expedition around the world on a foggy midwinter night. Thus, what had made Rudolph “different” and had caused his exclusion when he was growing up allowed him to become a hero to children all over the world.

       All of us are born “different” from each other; there are no two people in this world who are exactly alike. We all have limitations of one kind or another – visible or invisible – that we need to overcome if we are to lead healthy, balanced lives. Overcoming our own limitations is not easy – but nothing worthwhile ever is. Overcoming limitations, though, is only half the story. Like Rudolph, we need to share our talents with others and help them to overcome their own limitations in turn. Reaching out to others who are “different” from “us,” or to people who have been excluded or marginalized for whatever reason, is a core value of every worthwhile philosophy of life, and it is also a key ingredient in all the major spiritual traditions of the world. We need to teach ourselves to look at the people around us with the “eyes of the heart,” looking beyond outward appearances to perceive the magnificence of the human spirit within us all. As my youngest cousin, Ashley, wrote to me in an email message this past fall:

“Sight doesn’t define vision. Eyes of the heart will see far beyond any physical force.” :)

       Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer was such an appealing character to me during my childhood days because I also had a limitation to overcome – low vision. I had been born with congenital glaucoma in both eyes and had several surgeries before my third birthday, through which my ophthalmologist managed to recover about 5%-10% of normal vision for me. I was the first student with any kind of disability to pass through my elementary, middle, and high schools, and I had somewhat “different” ways of learning than the other children used. I had textbooks in large print and on cassette tapes, I wrote out my assignments in big letters on black-lined notebook paper, and I was one of the few students in my class who wore glasses from kindergarten onward. These things, on occasion, might have caused a momentary misunderstanding with my peers – but by and large, I was very blessed indeed. Unlike Rudolph, I had a circle of loyal friends, understanding teachers, and a very supportive family to encourage me along the way. Sometimes it takes the encouragement and support of others to show us how uniquely gifted we really are and that being “different” is “AOK.” J

       Rudolph’s “limitation” – not having a “normal” nose – actually turned out to be an unexpected advantage when he grew up. In a similar way, we all have talents buried deep down inside us that can help us to shed a ray of sunshine on the people around us and “bloom where we’re planted.” Some of us may have a talent for encouraging others when they’re having a bad day, while others may have gifts to share through artwork, teaching, or writing. Whatever your talent may be, I encourage you to cultivate it and share it with others – whether it be in the workplace, at home, or anywhere else you happen to find yourself on a regular basis.

       In closing, I would like to share with you some words of wisdom from my maternal grandmother’s favorite Yuletide novella – The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum (1902). This classic tale is for “children of all ages,” not only because it tells an enchanting story, but also because it encourages us to share our time, talents, and treasures with others to make this world a better place to live in.

·        “Everything perishes except the world itself and its keepers. But while life lasts, everything on Earth has its use. The wise seek ways to be helpful to the world, for the helpful ones are sure to live again. … Yet every man has his mission, which is to leave the world better, in some way, than he found it” (Book 1, Chapters 6 & 7).

·  “It is true that great warriors and mighty kings and clever scholars of that day were often spoken of by the people; but no one of them was so greatly beloved as Santa Claus, because none other was so unselfish as to devote himself to making others happy. For a generous deed lives longer than a great battle or a king’s decree or a scholar’s essay, because it spreads and leaves its mark on all nature and endures through many generations” (Book 2, Chapter 11).

·        “‘In all this world there is nothing so beautiful as a happy child,’ says good old Santa Claus; and if he had his way, the children would all be beautiful, for all would be happy” (Book 3, Chapter 3).

       Best wishes to you and your families for a relaxing and enjoyable Yuletide season!

Yuletide Traditions from Italy

Dear Members, Alumni, and Friends of the JSMT:

This weekend, we are spotlighting Yuletide traditions that began in Italy!

First up is a Classical Latin poem by the Roman epic poet Virgil (70-19 BCE). In this amazing piece of verse, Virgil predicts a new Golden Age for the human race to follow the birth of a long-awaited child; the poem’s resonances with visionary themes and motifs in the Abrahamic faith traditions (cf. esp. Isaiah 11:6, “a little child shall lead them”) ensured Virgil’s continued popularity throughout the Middle Ages and onward into the present day.

Virgil’s Fourth Eclogue (Composed 37 BCE)

Muses of Sicily, essay we now
A somewhat loftier task! Not all men love
Coppice or lowly tamarisk: sing we woods,
Woods worthy of a Consul let them be.
Now the last age by Cumae's Sibyl sung
Has come and gone, and the majestic roll
Of circling centuries begins anew:
Justice returns, returns old Saturn's reign,
With a new breed of men sent down from heaven.
Only do thou, at the boy's birth in whom
The iron shall cease, the golden race arise,
Befriend him, chaste Lucina; 'tis thine own
Apollo reigns. And in thy consulate,
This glorious age, O Pollio, shall begin,
And the months enter on their mighty march.
Under thy guidance, whatso tracks remain
Of our old wickedness, once done away,
Shall free the earth from never-ceasing fear.
He shall receive the life of gods, and see
Heroes with gods commingling, and himself
Be seen of them, and with his father's worth
Reign o'er a world at peace. For thee, O boy,
First shall the earth, untilled, pour freely forth
Her childish gifts, the gadding ivy-spray
With foxglove and Egyptian bean-flower mixed,
And laughing-eyed acanthus. Of themselves,
Untended, will the she-goats then bring home
Their udders swollen with milk, while flocks afield
Shall of the monstrous lion have no fear.
Thy very cradle shall pour forth for thee
Caressing flowers. The serpent too shall die,
Die shall the treacherous poison-plant, and far
And wide Assyrian spices spring. But soon
As thou hast skill to read of heroes' fame,
And of thy father's deeds, and inly learn
What virtue is, the plain by slow degrees
With waving corn-crops shall to golden grow,
From the wild briar shall hang the blushing grape,
And stubborn oaks sweat honey-dew. Nathless
Yet shall there lurk within of ancient wrong
Some traces, bidding tempt the deep with ships,
Gird towns with walls, with furrows cleave the earth.
Therewith a second Tiphys shall there be,
Her hero-freight a second Argo bear;
New wars too shall arise, and once again
Some great Achilles to some Troy be sent.
Then, when the mellowing years have made thee man,
No more shall mariner sail, nor pine-tree bark
Ply traffic on the sea, but every land
Shall all things bear alike: the glebe no more
Shall feel the harrow's grip, nor vine the hook;
The sturdy ploughman shall loose yoke from steer,
Nor wool with varying colors learn to lie;
But in the meadows shall the ram himself,
Now with soft flush of purple, now with tint
Of yellow saffron, teach his fleece to shine.
While clothed in natural scarlet graze the lambs.
"Such still, such ages weave ye, as ye run,"
Sang to their spindles the consenting Fates
By Destiny's unalterable decree.
Assume thy greatness, for the time draws nigh,
Dear child of gods, great progeny of Jove!
See how it totters- the world's orbed might,
Earth, and wide ocean, and the vault profound,
All, see, enraptured of the coming time!
Ah! might such length of days to me be given,
And breath suffice me to rehearse thy deeds,
Nor Thracian Orpheus should out-sing me then,
Nor Linus, though his mother this, and that
His sire should aid- Orpheus Calliope,
And Linus fair Apollo. Nay, though Pan,
With Arcady for judge, my claim contest,
With Arcady for judge great Pan himself
Should own him foiled, and from the field retire.
Begin to greet thy mother with a smile,
O baby-boy! ten months of weariness
For thee she bore: O baby-boy, begin!
For him, on whom his parents have not smiled,
Gods deem not worthy of their board or bed.

Our second selection is the “Ballad of Befana,” which is based on a legend about the Yuletide gift-giver in Italy, Befana (who in recent decades, due to the infiltration of North American Yuletide customs into Europe, has sometimes been identified as Mrs. Santa Claus). Befana bring gifts to children on the night of January 5-6 (Epiphany Eve); she rides a broomstick and comes down the chimney to fill the children’s stockings. J

“The Ballad of Befana” by Phyllis McGinley (1905-1978)

Befana the housewife, scrubbing her pane,

Saw three old sages ride down the lane,

Saw three gray travelers pass her door --

Gaspar, Balthazar, Melchior.

"Where journey you, sirs?" she asked of them.

Balthazar answered, "To Bethlehem,

For we have news of a marvelous thing.

Born in a stable is Christ the King."

"Give him my welcome!" Then Gaspar smiled,

"Come with us, mistress, to greet the child."

"Oh, happily, happily would I fare,

Were my dusting through and I'd polished the stair."

Old Melchior leaned on his saddle horn.

"Then send but a gift to the small newborn."

"Oh, gladly, gladly I'd send him one,

Were the hearthstone swept and my weaving done.

As soon as ever I've baked my bread,

I'll fetch him a pillow for his head,

And a coverlet too," Befana said.

"When the rooms are aired and the linen dry,

I'll look at the babe." But the three rode by.

She worked for a day and a night and a day,

Then, gifts in her hands, took up her way.

But she never could find where the Christ Child lay.

And still she wanders at Christmastide,

Houseless, whose house was all her pride,

Whose heart was tardy, whose gifts were late;

Wanders, and knocks at every gate,

Crying, "Good people, the bells begin!

Put off your toiling and let love in."

In our next episode: poems and tales about the Midwinter Solstice on December 21^st! :)

Here Comes Santa Claus!

Dear Members, Alumni, & Friends of the JSMT:

I have returned to the office after a successful surgery on November 20^th and recovery at home during my subsequent medical leave. Quotemail will appear in your emailbox on the first three Fridays in December, then take a hollydaze hiatus until early January, when it will resume its regular fortnightly schedule. During the month of December, we’ll be sharing some poetry and prose about various cross-cultural aspects of the holiday season – stories and tales that make this time of year bright with hope and joy amid the darkness and cold that herald the approach of the Midwinter Solstice on December 21^st.

This week, we have two pieces to share about the hollydaze gift-giver who is most familiar in North America – Santa Claus. First of all, I’d like to share with you the most famous newspaper editorial in American history – to remind us all that we have a wonderful opportunity to share our stories, insights, and encouragement with a world that stands in desperate need of HOPE. And now (drumroll, please) – without further delay (cue the spotlight) – here’s the most famous newspaper editorial in American history!

“Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus”

Source: http://www.newseum.org/yesvirginia/

[Eight-year-old Virginia O'Hanlon wrote a letter to the editor of New York's Sun, and the quick response was printed as an unsigned editorial Sept. 21, 1897. The work of veteran newsman Francis Pharcellus Church has since become history's most reprinted newspaper editorial, appearing in part or whole in dozens of languages in books, movies, and other editorials, and on posters and stamps.]

“DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, ‘If you see it in THE SUN it’s so.’ Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
VIRGINIA O'HANLON.
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET”

VIRGINIA, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great Universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no VIRGINIAS. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, VIRGINIA, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Selections from My Remarks at the ACES Honors Symposium

Friday, April 13^th, 2007

        In L. Frank Baum’s classic holiday tale, The Life and Ad-ventures of Santa Claus, we meet a young man named Claus, a human foundling raised by the immortal denizens of an enchanted forest. In his young manhood, he chose to dwell among mortal humans because he wanted to share the joys of his own happy childhood with the children of humankind. At first he simply played, sang, and shared stories with the children who lived near his home in the Laughing Valley of Hohaho, but afterward, he “invented” the first toys and spread the joy of giving Yuletide gifts around the world. Un-like Gilgamesh, Claus obtained endless life within the circles of the world, when the immortals who had raised him endowed him with the Mantle of Immortality. They gave Claus such a momentous gift because Claus had seen that the lives of mortal children in that long-ago time were filled with drudgery and misery, and he had determined to correct this injustice by sharing with them the fruits of his experience – namely, that a happy childhood, filled with kindness and giving, could lay the foundation for a better world when the children grew up.

        Baum summarizes so eloquently the lessons to be drawn from his mythical biography of Santa Claus that they require no further comment on my part. He writes:

Everything perishes except the world itself and its keepers. But while life lasts, everything on Earth has its use. The wise seek ways to be helpful to the world, for the helpful ones are sure to live again. … Yet every man has his mission, which is to leave the world better, in some way, than he found it. (Book I, Chapters 6 & 7)

[Santa Claus] brought toys to the children because they were little and helpless, and because he loved them. He knew that the best of children were sometimes naughty, and that the naughty ones were often good. It is the way with children, the world over, and he would not have changed their natures had he possessed the power to do so.  And that is how our Claus became Santa Claus. It is possible for any man, by good deeds, to enshrine himself as a Saint in the hearts of the people.  (Book II, Chapter 9)

It is true that great warriors and mighty kings and clever scholars of that day were often spoken of by the people; but no one of them was so greatly beloved as Santa Claus, because none other was so unselfish as to devote himself to making others happy. For a generous deed lives longer than a great battle or a king's decree or a scholar's essay, because it spreads and leaves its mark on all nature and endures through many generations. (Book II, Chapter 11)

“In all this world there is nothing so beautiful as a happy child,” says good old Santa Claus; and if he had his way, the children would all be beautiful, for all would be happy. (Book III, Chapter 3)

Next week: poems about Yuletide traditions from Italy!

Until then, may the calendar keep bringing Happy Holidays to you! :)

Rob