Extraordinary difficulties over last day or so. Went from having a difficult fight in hand to utter exhaustion and incapacity yesterday AM. Slogged t through, not exactly covered in glory. Debated missing the midnight mass, but walked over in plenty of time for the standby line.
Midtown packed with materialistic tourists. Goods from afar -- Nicholas of Bari (translated).
A feast scheduled adventitiously, for the darkest days, but no less authentic for that. After two thousand years, the saving force in the spirit is already named Christmastime. It is already part of what we think with.
In the depth of darkest night, A birth. And from that hour, his death was inevitable. And so a good birth.