The Holly Bears a Prickle

Thirty folk gathered at my home last night for fellowship, food and carols. We had a lovely time; the afternoon spent cleaning the house had been well spent, afterall. With Chris on the piano and Josh on his guitar, we sang some of those carols from the sheet which a good conservative evangelical like me would frown upon in chapel, like Good King Wenceslas, Away in a Manger (borderline), Ding Dong Merrily on High and The Holly and the Ivy. All rather sentimental but good fun. Yet I was moved by the latter, in particular:

The holly bears a berry,
as red as any blood,
and Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
to do poor sinners good.

The holly bears a prickle,
as sharp as any thorn,
and Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
on Christmas day in the morn.

The holly bears a bark,
as bitter as any gall,
and Mary bore sweet Jesus Christ
for to redeem us all.

The holly and the ivy,
when they are both full grown,
of all the trees that are in the wood
The holly bears the crown.

Truly, the Christ-child was placed in a wooden manger at His birth, and placed upon a wooden cross for His death; the Babe of Bethlehem became the Sacrifice of Calvary. Christmas is lovely, but Easter is better.