Epiphany

By the time Epiphany arrives the three wise men in my nativity set have marched themselves right into their Rubbermaid bin and away to storage. Despite their long journey ending in the attic, I have not forgotten the kings and on the 6th of January I think of the Feast of Epiphany with fondness.

When I was a very little girl the ladies of our church, St. Gabriel’s, held an Epiphany Tea. It was a mother daughter affair with the silver and the crystal and the fancy little sugar cubes. When the ornate cake was cut, all of the daughters hoped to get a piece with a gift inside. Baked within the cake were small ornaments. Each had a special duty attached. Whoever found the ring in their cake was responsible for the decorations the next year. If you found the baby Jesus, you were in charge of procuring the cake. There were several more ornaments to be found each with a responsibility for the next year’s tea.

As children, we daughters wanted to find an ornament, a gift. Mothers dreaded finding a gift. They appreciated the responsibilities attached to the gift. As a seven year old it was just a pretty novelty. As a mom it was one more thing to do just after Christmas. Despite their feigned protests when a daughter wanted a second piece of cake, it seems that the mothers good naturedly accepted that the result of coming to the tea might be added responsibilities the next year.

The best gifts come with the most responsibilities. A good marriage is a gift. Children are a gift. Neither come without responsibilities. The gift of children comes with hard choices and sacrificial love. Seldom do children appreciate the, often unpopular, decisions parents make on their behalf. In all relationships worth having, the good is paired with the difficult. We grit our teeth and do what needs to be done. Sometimes the reward is immediately evident. Sometimes it is a matter of faith. We continue with difficulty because, paradoxically, in the difficult often the most joy is found. It’s a mystery in the category with the last being first, and it being better to give than to receive; a mystery as strange as three kings following a star to worshiping a child of humble birth.


Happy Epiphany,

Michelle