From the Pastor’s Desk…

21 Dec From the Pastor’s Desk…

Dear Friends,

Absolutely the last thing I want to talk about the week of Christmas is the coronavirus.  I mean, seriously.  I am sick to death of Covid (though not literally, I hope!)  Still, the news on the latest variant is so disturbing and discouraging that we cannot ignore it.  We must continue to stay informed and adapt with the ever-evolving circumstances.  

I admit that as I’ve watched things shutting down again over the past few days, I’ve been in something of a Covid funk.  While so far our plans at Calvary remain to continue our practice of gathering for worship as safely as possible, I am reading the headlines with trepidation.  I’m hoping and praying for the best, but we will also have contingency plans, just in case.

Perhaps because of all the gloomy news, when one of Calvary’s members forwarded this poem to me today, I could hardly stop laughing.  And, laughing is exactly what I needed to balance the weight of the concerns emerging around Omicron.  I pass it along to you, in what I trust will be a lighthearted way for all of to stay safe and sane as we prepare to receive the Light of the World into our lives.  

Christmas Joy,

Michelle

(P.S. The acronym “CERB” that appears in the poem stands for Canada Emergency Response Benefit which was Canada’s equivalent of our stimulus payments.  The acronym PCR stands for “polymerase chain reaction” which is a diagnostic test to determine if a person has the coronavirus.  Enjoy!)

A COVID Christmas

(author unknown)

T’was the night before Christmas but Covid was here,
So we all had to stay extra cautious this year.
Our masks were all hung by the chimney with care,
In case Santa forgot his and needed a spare.

With Covid, we couldn’t leave cookies or cake,
So we left Santa hand sanitizer to take.

The children were sleeping, the brave little tots,
The ones over 5 had just had their first shots.

And mom in her kerchief and me in my cap,
Had just settled in for a long winter’s nap.
But we tossed and we turned all night in our beds,
As visions of variants danced in our heads.

Gamma and Delta and now Omicron,
These Covid mutations that go on and on.
I thought to myself, “If this doesn’t get better,
I’ll soon be familiar with every Greek letter”.

Then just as I started to drift off and doze,
A clatter of noise from the front lawn arose.
I leapt from my bed and ran straight down the stair,
I opened the door, and an old gent stood there.

His N 95 made him look pretty weird,
But I knew who he was by his red suit and beard.
I kept six feet away but blurted out quick,
” What are you doing here, jolly Saint Nick?”

Then I said, “Where’s your presents, your reindeer and sleigh?
Don’t you know that tomorrow will be Christmas Day “?
And Santa stood there looking sad in the snow,
As he started to tell me a long tale of woe.

He said he’d been stuck at the North Pole alone,
All his white-collar elves had been working from home.
And most of the others said, “Santa, don’t hire us!
We can live off the CERB now, thanks to the virus”.

Those left in the toyshop had little to do,
With supply chain disruptions, they could make nothing new.
And as for the reindeer, they’d all gone away,
None of them left to pull on his sleigh.

He said Dasher and Dancer were in quarantine,
Prancer and Vixen refused the vaccine,
Comet and Cupid were in ICU,
So were Donner and Blitzen, they may not pull through.

And Rudolph’s career can’t be resurrected,
With his shiny red nose, they all think he’s infected.
Even with his old sleigh, Santa couldn’t go far,
Every border to cross needs a new PCR.

Santa sighed as he told me how nice it would be,
If children could once again sit on his knee.
He couldn’t care less if they’re naughty or nice,
But they’d have to show proof that they’d had their shot twice.

But then the old twinkle returned to his eyes,
And he said that he’d brought me a Christmas surprise.
When I unwrapped the box and opened it wide,
Starlight and rainbows streamed out from inside.

Some letters whirled round and flew up to the sky,
And they spelled out a word that was 40 feet high.
There first was an H, then an O, then a P,
Then I saw it spelled HOPE when it added the E.

“Christmas magic” said Santa as he smiled through his beard.
Then suddenly all of the reindeer appeared.
He jumped into his sleigh and he waved me good-bye,
Then he soared o’er the rooftops and into the sky.

I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
“Get your vaccines my friends, Merry Christmas, good-night”.
Then I went back to bed and a sweet Christmas dream,
Of a world when we’d finished with COVID-19.