LORD, give us leave this day to celebrate thy true birthday, of which the present festival puts us in mind. Year by year it returns throughout the centuries, growing old with the aged, renewing itself with the new-born child. Year by year it comes to us, passes, and then returns, full of the old magic. The whole round earth is thirsting for thy birthday, Lord. May it then resemble thee again this year, and make peace between heaven and earth.
All days bear the imprint of thy goodness, but today thy goodness brims over.
Thy birthday, Lord, is a treasure great enough to repay the common debt. Blessed be that day which gave back the light of the sun to us who were astray in the dark, which brought us the sheaf of divine plenty and gave us that vine from which the wine of salvation would be pressed. In that month of December which holds deep down in the earth the seed that was entrusted to it, the bud of salvation unfolded itself from the Virgin's womb, where it was planted in the spring days when the lambs were skipping in their pastures. That which the angels were awaiting, that which the cherubim and seraphim and the ministering choirs of heaven knew not, has been revealed in our time. That which they viewed as a reflection in a mirror, we see face to face.