This last weekend we went to visit our son and daughter-in-law. They are expecting their first child. Their joy is evident. As a man I can but glimpse what motherhood means to a woman. We all get a glimpse of this when we read the Magnificat. In Advent we wait for the gift of a child.
Beloved, Mother of us all,
To-day we remember
That, of all earth’s millions,
You, Mary, in the womb,
Were shining, whole,
You only, O Morning Star,
Lighted the clouds of sin and waiting.
You only, Immaculate Ark,
Glided above the depths of the primal curse;
For you were to bear safely over those waters
Emmanuel, your little Son, from whose baby hand
Streams the rainbow up which we climb to God.
You only, little white moon, are the crystal
Reflection of our Sun.
But for your whiteness, O Gate of Heaven,
We had never entered, nor seen our God.
But for your loveliness, O Mystic Rose,
We had never breathed the Rose of Sharon.
White Tower of David, Ivory Tower,
Princess whose beauty lured Love’s kiss when life began,
Mother, who died a thousand deaths for us,
We thank Him for you.
To-day, when He smiles to see His image in you, clear,
Sr. St. Francis, S.S.J.
Robert, Cyril. Mary Immaculate: God’s Mother and Mine. New York: Marist Press, 1946.