Away in a Manger

Last night was spent away in a manger, in the company of best friends.

SF and TJ humoured me, as did Bruno, and I had the added pleasure of Dumpling's company.

We attended a carolling service by candle-light, in celebration of Christmas, and to fund-raise for The Royal Marsden Hospital.

The weather was cold and dry.  Mulled wine and minced pies were served, the village vicar and Santa made appearances.

For me though, the highlight was just being in the company of loved ones, and enjoying service from a different perspective.

For although I am rather uncomfortable with organised religion these days, something about being with the horse, with the dog, with friends, and the crisp cold, felt just right. 

 For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel as conflicted with the concept of a colonising, "non-Asian" god.  The songs I sang repeatedly in childhood, came rushing back.

Away in the manger, no crib for a bed,

the little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head.

The stars in the bright sky looked down where he laid,

the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay...