I do realize that Christmas season is over. However, the
birth of Jesus leads to the life of Jesus, then death and resurrection and the
never-ending story of the King. So I’m circling back to Bethlehem, but with the
mindset that as we begin our New Year, we head in the direction of Easter where
we will honor the worst and best days of history.
I read this poem around Christmas this year in a collection
of other poetry and pieces pulled from L. M. Montgomery’s works. Think Anne of
Green Gables when Matthew gives her a dress with puffed sleeves. *cue all the
tears* This poem is reminiscent of the “Mary Did You Know” song we all hear
one-thousand times around the holidays. It’s unique in the juxtaposition of
grief and joy Mary would have felt as a mother.
Mary did know that her baby was the Great I Am. That
He was the promised Messiah, would fulfill prophecies, and save His people from
their sins. She likely didn’t know all of the details of this or the specific
picture that would play out. I love how this poem speaks of His mercy and
healing and hope, while also describing His pain and agony and fatigue. Fully
God, fully man. I hope this poem reminds us of the great things Jesus has done
for us as it presents itself in a beautifully worded imagining of His mother,
Mary.
If Mary Had Known
L.M. Montgomery
If Mary had known
When she held her Babe’s
hands in her own
Little hands that were tender
and white as a rose,
All dented with dimples from
finger to wrist,
Such as mothers have kissed
That one day they must feel
the fierce blows
Of a hatred insane,
Must redden with holiest
stain,
And grasp as their guerdon
the boon of the bitterest pain,
Oh, I think that her sweet,
brooding face
Must have blanched with its
anguish of knowledge above her embrace.
But if Mary had known,
As she held her Babe’s hands
in her own,
What a treasure of gifts to
the world they would bring;
With healing and hope to the
hearts that must ache,
And without him must break;
Had she known they would
pluck forth death’s sting
And set open the door
Of the close, jealous grave
evermore,
Making free who were captives
in sorrow and darkness before,
Oh, I think that a gracious
sunrise
Of rapture had broken across
the despair of her eyes!
If Mary had known
As she sat with her baby
alone,
And guided so gently his bare
little feet
To take their first steps
from the throne of her knee,
How weary must be
The path that for them should
be meet;
And how it must lead
To the cross of humanity’s
need,
Giving hissing and shame,
giving blame and reproach for its meed,
Oh I think that her tears
would have dewed
Those dear feet that must
walk such a hard, starless way to the Rood!
But if Mary had known,
As she sat with her Baby
alone,
On what errands of mercy and
peace they would go,
How those footsteps would
ring through the years of all time
With an echo sublime,
Making holy the land of their
woe,
That the pathway they trod
Would guide the world back to
its God,
And lead ever upward away
from the grasp of the clod,
She had surely forgot to be
sad
And only remembered to be
most immortally glad!
If Mary had known
As she held him so closely,
her own,
Cradling his shining, fair
head on her breast,
Sunned over with ringlets as
bright as the morn,
That a garland of thorn
On that tender brow would be
pressed
Till the red drops would fall
Into the eyes that looked out
upon all,
Abrim with a pity divine over
clamor and brawl,
Oh, I think that her lullaby
song
Would have died on her lips
into wailing impassioned and long!
But if Mary had known,
As she held him so closely,
her own,
That over the darkness and
pain he would be
The Conqueror hailed in all
oncoming days,
The world’s hope and praise,
And the garland of thorn,
The symbol of mocking and
scorn
Would be a victorious diadem
royally worn,
Oh, I think that ineffable
joy
Must have flooded her soul as
she bent o’er her wonderful Boy!
--Sandy Gromacki
