In the Bleak Midwinter, the words are by poet Christina Rossetti, is one of my favorite Christmas carols. This is a particularly lovely video, sung by the Gloucester Cathedral Choir. I can no longer remember who to thank for sharing it with me, though.
What I especially love, what has made me hit play over and over again, are the mother and child that the camera zooms in on during this verse (right around 2:20):
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.
The little baby kicks at the hymnal and the mother looks at him lovingly. Then when she sings “worshipped the Beloved / with a kiss” she bends and tenderly kisses his forehead.
I was holding Ben the first time I watched the video and found myself doing the same thing. In face I strongly suspect it would be almost impossible for a mother holding a baby not to kiss him.
In this Christmas season, I find myself especially drawn to contemplating the face of my littlest one and pondering what it means that the eternal Word became such a helpless little baby.