The Beacon - December Issue

AN INCREDIBLY SERIOUS TEXTBOOK REVIEW

by Suava Hoffman

CUSERVES: NOVA SCOTIA TRIP

by Ben Wilson

THE YEAR OF THE TOPPLING TREE

THE BEACON

by Alley MacDonald

NO.4

CHRISTMAS BANQUET 2023 Edited by Malcolm Ohlhauser

DECEMBER 2023 ISSUE NO. 4

Free Bookmark inside!

We asked: What is your favorite Christmas Tradition?

Editor-in-chief: Mari Kadri Assistant Editor: Malcolm Ohlhauser Beacon writing team: Alley MacDonald, Evan Carr, Abeni Knowles, Noah Miller, Abbi Skailing, Suava Hoffman, Hayley Cook, Evan Cook

O C T OBen B E Wilson R 2 0and 2 3Trent Webb Guest contributors: ISSUE NO. 2

Special thanks to the CSA

Christmas Banquet 2023 photos courtesy of Matt Cook @mcook_photos and Crandall Student Association @CrandallCSA

Crandall Christmas Market

by Mari Kadri If you were on campus on the 18th of last month, you may have noticed it being a bit busier and a bit more festive than normal.

The entire ground floor of Stultz Hall was taken over for the day by tables willed with local vendors selling a variety of handmade items for the hard-to-shop-for friend or family member - anything from Christmas Bark, to jewelry, to Christmas decor, to pet treats, and more!

Erica Scott, who had helped organize the Christmas Market for several years, shared that the Christmas Market is not just a good time, it‘s a way for Crandall to do outreach and to give back to the community. With over 2,000 people from the wider community visiting the Market this year alone, Erica said that it‘s an opportunity for people who might not otherwise ever step foot in Crandall to experience who we are and what we do.

At the same time, the Market functions as a fundraiser for the Crandall community. Last year, all entrance fees that were collected were put towards buying bus passes for students who otherwise would not have been able to afford getting to and from school. This year, with the raising cost of food, the money raised will go towards supporting students facing food insecurity.

Between the Crandall Christmas Market and Giving Tuesday, Crandall was able to raise over their goal of $7,500 to help support students in these initiatives.

Announcements & Etc. Would you like your creative work featured in the Shallnot section of the Beacon?

Email submissions to CrandallBeacon@crandallu.ca or DM our Instagram

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CSA Christmas Banquet 2023 An event to remember Photographer: Matt Cook Edited by Malcolm Ohlhauser

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CUServes: Nova Scotia Trip

by Ben Wilson As I began to write this, I was travelling with a group back to Crandall from what was possibly one of the best Crandall missions I have been on in recent history.

For context, CU Serves began doing short term, local missions during reading week last year in response to Hurricane Katrina and the impact it had on the people of P.E.I. That trip was an incredible opportunity to serve in areas of need while also bonding with others in the Crandall community that I never thought I would. It was putting into action the values and goals of CU Serves through service and discipleship.

Once we got back to school this year, there was one question that lingered in my brain: what’s Tim cooking up this semester?

As it turns out, it was not a response to a major natural disaster.

Instead, we went to a place with well-worn facilities, multiple places to get lost, and many fires. That’s right, we went to camp.

More specifically, we went to Kingswood Camp in the Annapolis Valley, Nova Scotia. If anyone knows anything about camp, it is that there are many jobs that can be completed, but not enough time or resources to do so.

Love Works, a construction crew taking part in various projects for God’s glory, reached out to Crandall and asked us to assist them in completing some of the projects at this camp. The response: CU Serves began asking for volunteers to come and provide the workforce that was needed. About 26 people sacrificed the first part of their reading week (which is a highly valued commodity for any student) by responding to that call. Thus, the team was formed, and the journey to Nova Scotia began.

The camp had many things for the team to do. Whether it was replacing the shingles on the roofs of cabins, a LOT of painting, clearing brush (a mixture of branches and logs) from the rope course, or helping with the cutting and storing of firewood, each member of the team kept themselves busy.

While we were there, a member of Love Works told us that the team’s work was valued at $20,000.

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Usually, we don’t consider the monetary value of these trips, except for personal costs, but this number intrigued me as it was the amount of money that was invested in building up a camp whose mission is to share Jesus with as many kids as possible.

However, the value invested was far greater than $20,000 dollars. It was each individual team member’s sacrifice to God of their time, the amount of camp experiences made better by a lack of leaky roofs and hazards on the paths, the campfire conversations about Jesus made possible by the firewood that was chopped, and the relationships that were formed with others through this experience.

When we invest our time in these opportunities to serve, whether it be through these experiences or any other means, the impact that this work brings is far greater than anything we can evaluate.

My challenge for you is to love through your actions, even when it feels like your participation is not needed. It is far more valuable than you realize.

A Christmas Playlist from the Writers’ Room Blessed Kelly Clarkson

Auld Lang Syne Home Free

What a Glorious Night Sidewalk Prophets

Wonderful Christmastime Paul McCartney

This Christmas Chris Brown

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Christmas Day Chris Tomlin

How Suddenly a Baby Cries Keith & Kristyn Getty

Only at Christmas Time Sufjan Stephens

Christmas Lights Coldplay

Silent Night Celtic Woman

The Best Investment: An Incredibly Serious Textbook Review

by Suava Hoffman “The best investment you can make is in yourself” This famous quote from Warren Buffet is often used to encourage students by telling them to invest in themselves by studying hard and excelling at school. However, I suggest that there is an even better investment students can make for self-improvement—Gravetter and Wallnau’s Statistics textbook.

At the (slightly mind boggling) price of $236.20 in the Crandall Bookstore, Statistics for the Behavioural Sciences (10th Edition) is certainly an investment. However, it is worth every single penny.

The lengthy textbook serves many purposes and benefits students in many ways. For one, it is an excellent sleep-inducer. Students in Statistics can throw away their melatonin supplements—the minute they attempt to read this textbook, they’ll find themselves drowsy as a sloth. If the long explanations of t-statistics and incomprehensible tables don’t put them to sleep right away, reading through the multi-page z-score chart will. One can only wonder how many times the authors fell asleep while writing this somnolent textbook.

While it’s important for students to get enough sleep, it’s also important that they stay active to maintain their health. This textbook comes in handy for students who want to stay fit. With 755 pages, this textbook is heavy enough to be used as a weight. Students who carry this textbook in their backpack are guaranteed to build shoulder and back muscles from carrying it around all day.

Another important investment in a student’s life is personal comfort. A student’s dorm room should be a comfortable place for them to relax or do their work, and this triple-threat textbook has many decorative uses to make the room homey. It could serve as a doorstopper, a (rather hefty) paperweight, or an addition to the bookshelf that makes visiting friends say “wow, you must be so smart!”.

Statistics for the Behavioural Sciences is the key to success as a student, helping students stay healthy and inspired. To quote Warren Buffet again, “price is what you pay, value is what you get.”

While the bookstore price may be high, the value of this textbook is incomparable. Statistics for the Behavioural Sciences (10th edition) is the best investment you could make as a student.

Suava Hoffman is a second-year psychology and sociology student. She doesn't actually own the statistics textbook.

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Local Lore: The Year of the Toppling Tree

by Alley MacDonald In this month’s installment of Local Lore, let’s dive into some history a little closer to home—in fact, from right here at Crandall University. I sat down with Crandall alumnus Carolyn (Alley) MacDonald (also known as my mom!) to chat about past Crandall Christmas traditions. One story in particular stood out to me, and I thought I’d share it with you…

Alley: So tell me about this toppling tree!

Carolyn: It was December of 1996 or 1997, the first years on the brand-new university campus.

Campus was new, the Great Hall was new, and the entire building was filled with excited students ready to burn off some pre-exam energy.

Alley: I think that today’s students can relate to that.

Carolyn: A group of seven guys—Neil Wellwood, Jeff Waddell, Bob Murray, Tim Martin, Dean Hennessey, Mike Palmer, and Ken Wellwood—decided to form the illustriously named Christmas Tree Cutters Association (with the permission of Ramona Mitchell, of course—she was head of the bookstore and bookings).

The renowned Christmas Tree Cutters Association of 1996, as published in the ABU yearbook.

Alley: And I take it they intended to cut down a Christmas tree?

Carolyn: They headed for the woods behind campus with one mission—to bring back the biggest Christmas tree they could find. In fact, both years featured massive trees! Hours later, they returned with an over ten-feet-tall evergreen. (Don’t ask me how they got it from the woods to campus—some stories are best left untold).

Alley: Noted…what happened next?

Carolyn: After much commotion, the tree was raised in the very center of the Great Hall. The Christmas Tree Cutters Association assured us that it had been anchored with precision to both of the catwalks. An assembly of students (myself included) from all years and majors gathered in the Great Hall, singing carols and pretending to be expert tree decorators. For several hours, we decorated the tree (and ourselves) and successfully procrastinated to avoid our end-ofsemester work. Then, we bid our beautiful tree goodnight, proud of our work.

Alley: Aw! And what happened after that?

The decorating of the tree in 1997.

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Carolyn: The next morning, we arrived in the Great Hall to discover that our masterpiece had fallen to its demise! It apparently wasn’t tied quite as well as expected; however, the Christmas Tree Cutters Association refused to be discouraged. With much more rope and a bit of assistance from maintenance, they once again stabilized our tree.

Alley: And did the tradition continue?

Carolyn: The tradition of the giant tree only lasted two years—smaller trees were the order of the day from then on. But we’ll certainly never forget the award-winning trees of ‘96 and ‘97!

And there you have it! The legendary Crandall story of the toppling tree. In this case, let’s hope that history doesn’t repeat itself.

Alley is a third-year history major who dreams of one day living in a tiny house.

The First Grinch, Shepherds, Magi, Jesus, and Us: Lessons from the Nativity

by Evan Carr The stage was set by the prophets of old. The star, on center stage, cast its radiant beams on the darkness and stillness below, illuminating the shadows and the arid landscape. The multitudes of angels were queued for the chorus that they had been preparing for since the beginning of time.

The main characters were coming into view, and all was happening according to plan. History was unfolding before the eyes of the people. The long-awaited time had come: the Messiah was here.

Yet many, in the comfort of their homes and palaces, missed this event and they even loathed it.

Matthew 2:3 tells us that along with Herod (the first Grinch), everyone in Jerusalem was deeply disturbed by the news of a newborn king. Ironically, the religious leaders even quote a prophecy to Herod commenting on how this Messiah would be born in Bethlehem (Matthew 2:3-6; Micah 5:2).

Yet they, too, miss the opportunity to see the king.

Though they had a great amount of sight, they lacked vision. The Jews were expecting a great warrior Messiah-King who would overthrow the Romans and inaugurate an eternal rule from Israel. Yet the Messiah arrived as a humble baby in a stinky, dirty manger. Nevertheless, what he would do was infinitely more important than overthrowing any political powers.

Perhaps we are like the Pharisees sometimes.

We think we know exactly what God is going to do or what is best, but we miss the point. We miss the fact that God is doing something greater than we can imagine, and we can be part of it if we are willing. Does anyone relate? Has there been a time when God called you to do something great for him, but you declined?

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On the other hand, we see those who unconditionally received Jesus. The angels finally get the nod to enter the stage. They appear in a vast number of ethereal brilliance and sublime beauty. Their song of joy shakes the ground and pierces the hearts of the shepherds, as they sing “Glory to God in the highest heaven and peace on earth to those with whom God is pleased” (Luke 2:14 NLT). These shepherds rush to see the Lamb of God – the one who would be the ultimate Passover Lamb to pay the price of their sins (and ours) once and for all time. These men took the opportunity to leave their posts and see the Messiah.

The other group of people who met the Messiah were the Magi – royal astrologers from a distant land in the east (Matthew 2:1-12).[i] While the people of Israel – God’s chosen people – rejected baby Jesus, Gentiles from a foreign land who perhaps worshipped foreign gods came to not only see the king of the world but to grace him with three gifts significant to Jesus’ life – gold for his kingship, myrrh foreshadowing his atoning death, and frankincense for his role as the High Priest when he defeated sin and death (Hebrews 10:12).

This demonstrates that even as a baby, Jesus was bringing about the prophecy of Isaiah 49:6: “I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth” (NIV).

These wise men were symbolic of what Jesus’ greater mission was: to save all tribes, nations, and tongues through His death and resurrection. They seized the opportunity to see God and encounter him.

So, amidst the busyness of the Christmas season, do not forget the little baby in a humble manger who would grow up to save the world and be the King of kings and Lord of lords.

If you are a Christian, he is knocking at the door to your life (Revelation 3:20-21). Are you answering?

If you are not a Christian, Jesus is holding out his hand. Will you take it? He loves you and wants you to experience his endless and unconditional grace, just as the shepherds and magi did millennia ago. [i] Life Application Study Bible, NLT. Tyndale House Publishers. 2004. P. 1536.

Evan Carr is a third year Science student who can be found humming Christmas songs when there are still leaves on the trees and eating a candy cane when temperatures are way too high for Frosty to survive.

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Nature of History Podcast: Finding Clara

by Mari Kadri There are very few certainties in this world, but one certainty is that if you say Dr. Grant‘s name loud enough someone in the vicinity will, undoubtably, comment on how great of a prof he is.

It is well-earned praise. Besides being a very supportive professor, he is known for constantly working on improving his courses to give students the best learning experience possible.

In addition to introductory History courses, Dr. Grant also teaches upper-level History courses, including Nature of History - a course designed to teach students how to do History (think Research Methods but for history). This year, however, Nature of History looks a lot different than in previous years.

Last year, as he was clearing out the old Baptist Heritage Centre in preparation of the library renovations, Dr. Grant happened upon the diary of a woman named Clara Northrup Pearce from the 1860s. The diary, which was donated by Clara‘s nephew who worked at Crandall many years ago, provided Dr. Grant with a unique learning opportunity for his students: they would learn though experience by researching an actual person with ties to our community.

The assignment was to transcribe Clara’s diary, find outside information about her and her life in public records, find the themes that run through her life and put her story in the greater context of history of the time, and, ultimately, make a podcast.

This would be no easy task, so Dr. Grant arranged several field trips and workshops to help students learn the skill they would need for this project. The class visited the UdeM archives as well as the provincial archives looking for more information about Clara. They also visited her community of Cambridge Narrows to pay their respects and sing her favorite hymn “Come thou Fount“ at her gravesite.

The class was divided into four groups, each of which focused on one aspect of her life. Each group was responsible for producing one podcast episode, totaling four podcasts on the life of Clara.

Zoom lectures were given by experts in the field of History. Kathryn Wilson, who specializes in

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diary archives, talked about why diaries should be appreciated as a historical resource. Gail Campbell, author of “I Wish to Keep a Record“ which is about 19th century women diarists, talked about how to read diaries historically.

Workshops were given by Carley Lee on how to write a podcast script and the difference between academic writing versus storytelling. David Purdy, Crandall‘s very own head librarian, also gave a workshop on audio recording and working with Audacity (a sound recording and editing program).

Workshops were given by Carley Lee on how to write a podcast script and the difference between academic writing versus storytelling. David Purdy, Crandall‘s very own head librarian, also gave a workshop on audio recording and working with Audacity (a sound recording and editing program).

All these resources were provided to teach students in a very hands-on way how to combine complex historical arguments with good storytelling.

Bilen Mekonnen, a second year student taking the class, said that she enjoyed the hands on experience that this project provided her with: “it was rewarding... [learning] how to do hands on research, and having [Dr. Grant] tell us to just go for it with your groups and he was there to help us.” Bilen’s group focused on Clara’s involvement with missionary aid societies.

Bilen expressed that she she appreciated the podcast angle as someone who prefers speaking over writing. Her group made an effort to make the podcast sound more conversational rather than an info-dump. About the experience, she said that “it was cool to be able to connect dots and use Clara as a navigation.”

Dr. Grant hopes that though this project, students can not only learn how to do history, but experience hard work that goes into researching history and the thrill of discovery that goes handin-hand with it.

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Film Review: The Empire Strikes Back

by Trent Webb Spoiler Warning Do. Or do not. There is no try.

Oh, to be alive when this came out. It’s just a great movie through and through. Aging? Sure. But like why should that be a bad thing?

Okay the sets, compared to the previous A New Hope, are improved in the best ways possible. Empire starts off at Hoth which was smart because audiences get to learn that planets actually exist and not all of them are deserts (looking at you Disney). Next we go to Dagobah—the slime and gunk planet— WHICH WAS GREAT. I loved how there were snakes in almost every scene for some reason. Then we go to Cloud City which felt soooo unique! Even now, I feel like it stands out from all the other city planets we know of - partly due to the awesome unique score that city gets. All of this is to say that so much thought was put into these destinations, which all came together so well.

The characters were fabulous in this. The banter between Leia and Han makes the whole Hoth bit— it could easily have been boring without their fun, weird flirting. We see some decent progression from Luke too, while also showing that he is still a whiny kid. Loved his little tantrum that led to him taking a “time out” in the woods lol. Personally, I would have just lifted the ship up with the force, but I guess that’s just me . Lando is also a fabulous addition who fits right in.

🤷‍♂️

Finally, there is Yoda. He will forever be my favourite character. Seeing him flip a switch from being this frantic little old dude who doesn’t know what a flashlight is and trying to fight R2, to this wise Jedi who is considering taking on Luke as his last student worked so well. The design of Yoda is awesome and Frank Oz KILLS IT as him. I also think the OG Yoda and the Prequel Yoda work so well together.

Going back (or forwards) you can see and understand why Yoda feels so hesitant to take Luke on. I bet all the failures that happened with the Jedi order just flood right into his mind.

The dialogue we get from Yoda concerning the force is also some of the best stuff we get in Star Wars period. The force is not this power that only exists to be used, but it is ever present, “binding” everything together. Luke even asks questions about it that almost everyone wants the answer to.

But right when you think you are gonna get a detailed explanation on what the force is, Yoda straight up shuts you up because “there is no why.” The force should not have to be explained because it just is.

To end, I would highly recommend consuming a blue milk themed beverage while watching this!

10/10 experience.

Thanks for reading and make sure to check out our Instagram and Letterboxd @crandallfilmclub.

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SHALLNOT a place for stories Holiday Heaviness

by Abbi Skailing

My family hustled and bustled around the kitchen and through the halls in preparation for Christmas dinner, but I sat in the living room. I tried to pretend like I was reading a magazine, but really I was watching Grandpa. He sat, reclined in his easychair watching football. I was watching him for signs of sadness. After a while of intently analyzing his face, the way he reached to grab his drink and take a sip, I settled on the notion that he was sad, he just didn’t want to show it. It was Christmas day, after all.

I was suddenly aware of a presence behind my shoulder. It was my mother and aunt peeking into the kitchen from around the corner. They were checking on their father. In a weak, quiet voice, I heard Mom say, “I’m so proud of him.”

Just then, my little cousin Belle toddled over to Grandpa and lifted up a deck of cards. “Can you play with me, Grampie?” she asked in a squeaky voice.

“Belle,” my aunt said firmly, “not now. Leave Grampie alone.”

Grandpa grabbed the remote, switched off the game, and gave my aunt a disapproving look. “Of course I’ll play with you,” he said to Belle, taking the cards from her tiny hand. My mom and aunt said nothing and hurried back into the kitchen.

Once the meal was finally ready and we all gathered around the table, I couldn’t help but notice that the atmosphere had gotten more heavy. The busyness of meal preparations had distracted us for a bit, but now we were all left to face the empty chair that sat at the end of the table. My father leaned over to carve the Christmas goose. He looked sullen and tired dressed all in black. I suppose we all did.

The blue and silver candles gave the table a beautiful glow and the fig pudding looked as delicious as ever, but there was something vital missing from our feast. Someone. I decided to be the one to break the silence. I had to say something. We had to acknowledge what we were all thinking. “It’s not Christmas without Grandma.” I said with a sigh.

My whole family looked at me. Some sadly, some annoyed that I had voiced something that was easier to keep unspoken.

After a few seconds of silence, my cousin Belle piped up, “Should we open up her gifts or send them back?”

A thick tension fell over the dinner table. No one moved. No one said a word. My aunt shook her head and looked at Belle with disappointment.

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SHALLNOT a place for expression Holiday Heaviness (continued) Then, I saw what I had been watching for earlier. Grandpa’s face twisted into a frown. He took a deep breath. “She’d left her medication. I begged her not to go.”

Mom spoke up, “Dad, we don’t need to talk about this right now.”

Grandpa shook his head and rubbed his face, “She'd been drinking too much eggnog.”

“Dad,” Mom cut in, begging him to stop.

Grandpa took another deep breath and his sad expression turned resolute. He pointed a finger at us. “Listen to me, all of you. Warn your friends. Warn your neighbors. Tell them to be careful, watch out for themselves.” Grandpa’s lips pressed together to keep his emotions at bay, “They should never have given a license to a man who drives a sleigh and plays with elves.”

I’ll never forget that meal. I can’t think about the holidays without recalling that day. That was our first Christmas after Grandma got run over by a reindeer.

Wisdom of the Wind Let it come in the wind In a breeze so soft that only your hair responds Where it feels to fluctuate When traveling through the valleys It'll caress every move As a lover does their true love Or in a gale One that threatens to change and challenge The peace that precedes it Where it's disruption feels mountainous Too much for a single soul It'll do as it pleases Stopping for no form of opposition

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Or somewhere in between Playful in its touch And childlike is the response it draws Where it uses the trees to speak To sing in a language we don't understand The freshest breath you'll ever breathe Only rivaled by the sea Let life come through the wind - Elisha Reimer

SHALLNOT a place for reflection Foreword The Hon. Michael C. Pintard is a Bahamian writer and politician. His book: Still Standing covers personal loss and triumph, cultural dissensions, and other matters pressing to his heart. In my last year of highschool, we read his most famous poem ‘Still Standing’ as a part of our literature course. My teacher challenged us to write our own versions of this poem. To write as personal, as vulnerable, and as authentic as we wanted to be. The end of his heavy stanzas are marked with the words “Still Standing.” I thought of how much I resonated with Pintard. How he bore his heart in this art, which I thought was beautiful. His ability to take his deep seated troubles and turn it into a breathtaking feat is something I could only hope to replicate.

Nonetheless, I had my own struggles too. Here I was, in my last year of highschool: sick. In a time that should be my most vital, I felt trapped by pain and pills and the tensions of the future.

I took the challenge to heart and changed the rhythm. Pintard’s past tense would not work for what I wanted to, what I had to accomplish. After all the trouble we’ve both seen was his assertion: he was still standing, and my assertion: I will still be standing. It was a hope I needed to meditate on to keep myself pressing on towards that upward call in Christ, and a promise that I am standing in today.

Still (be) Standing There is goodness in the air I breathe and in each moment I find a glory to be.

Watch, wait and worry not; Time will tell a story of strength.

How when my body has fallen to pain, The Spirit fails not.

And when fire is set to the flesh, Behold He instills the peace of the Jordan in my soul; and satisfies the call of my heart.

Watch, wait and worry not; My purpose will take endurance.

So, to His allotment I say “Yes and Amen”.

For there is a blessed assurance that my pain will bring perseverance; and my weakness is worthwhile.

My testament to all; Yes, all shall see That then, now and forever I will always be standing.

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SHALLNOT a place for hope The Night

by Bekah Swanson

The bright light of the star in the sky shone in stark contrast to the gloom of the night surrounding it. It illuminated the face of a young girl, reclining on a bed of straw, nursing a whimpering newborn.

He was so tiny. His eyes were barely open, and his little, pink fists swiped at her hair. The young mother—Mary—was overwhelmed with feelings. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry.

Drenched in sweat and wrapped in exhaustion, she desperately wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn’t look away from the child in her arms.

The cow lying next to her also seemed infatuated with the newborn. Her large, sad brown eyes watched him closely as he took pauses from his meal to squeal and cry out. She chewed her own meal, looking thoughtful… or as thoughtful as a cow could look.

The sheep that had wandered in with the shepherds were also near the baby. Sitting together a few feet away, they bleated and baaed softly while gazing at the young mother and her new child. One of the smaller lambs had walked over, curious, and had sat down next to the girl’s arm with his face close to the new face that was suckling and breathing for the first time in his life. Mary felt the soft, itchy wool of the lamb rub against her arm as the warm side of the creature slowly swelled and deflated with its own breaths.

A few doves cooed from the rafters above, their bright eyes peering through the starlight, watching the scene unfold.

Mary felt like her heart was about to burst. Lying there, holding her Son for the first time, in front of an animal audience, she felt something she had only felt once before. It was when Gabriel had announced that she would carry the son of God, and the Holy Spirit had filled her, gifting her the most precious gift in the world.

And now, nine difficult months later, He was here. His little toes were round and perfect, his fingers were long, and his nails looks like little raindrops. His plump, pink lips were soft, and his dark hair was smooth and silky. He didn’t look much different from the other newborns Mary had seen, but she knew that this baby was something special.

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SHALLNOT a place for you The Night (continued)

by Bekah Swanson

Yeshuah. The Saviour of humanity. Stained with blood and wrapped in torn pieces of discarded material to keep him warm despite the cold night’s breeze.

The Son of the Almighty God welcomed to His world by animals and stars.

Mary’s lips trembled and broke into a smile as tears ran down her face. Her heart seemed to be processing the grandness of this moment.

These little fingers had formed the world! These tiny toes walked with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, and these dark eyes had witnessed the formation of Israel. This perfectly round, hungry mouth had conversed with angels! How could this be possible? How could she be holding the child of God in her arms?

The cow next to her mooed, causing her Son to cry out.

Creation had been groaning, longing for its God to make things right again. Ever since the fall of humanity, the hills, rocks, trees, and sky… the fish of the sea, birds of the air, and animals of the land… they had all been pleading for God to remember His world and bring salvation… …and now He was here. The sky above Him and the animals beside Him worshiped the author of life by mooing, bleating, cooing, and shining in the glory of this moment, and in praise of the great God who had decreed it.

This moment! The Son of God was here! The deliverer of Israel and the world had arrived! Mary’s heart joined the chorus of praise drifting to Heaven from the Earth below as she held God’s Son close to her.

Emmauel. God was with them!

And He would never again leave His creation.

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