Image: Barbara Ryther
Joy doesn’t wait for sadness or fear to move aside and make way
It comes in its own time
It may come quietly
The sight of the first crocus braving the old gray snow cover
The taste of your grandmother’s Christmas cookies after she’s gone
The tiniest light shining through a pinhole in the darkness
It may be invisible to us, while of profound light to others
A little girl opening a donated art kit on Christmas morning
A family provided with heating oil for the winter
Toddlers getting a nutritious breakfast
It may come with shattering suddenness
The sound of angels appearing to bewildered shepherds
The first, astonished wail of a newborn baby breaking apart the night
A star of such gravity that it pulls men a dangerous distance toward a foretold unknown
We may not always notice it
We may not be able to anticipate it
Sometimes we don’t even recognize it
But still Joy comes.