Precious Beginnings

I wonder what Mary pondered

When Jesus wet (again!) the bed?

I know she wished she had cleaned up

When wise men entered her homely shed.

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And “heavenly” cannot describe

The dreams Joseph drew in his mind

Those nights traveling, toddler-in-tow,

Who squirmed and kicked donkey’s behind.

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Still, these parents would most likely return

To such obscure, mundane moments in time,

For grace descends, miracles hide,

And the ordinary is the sublime.