Feast of Teresa of Avila, Mystic, Teacher, 1582 The love of Jesus is at once avid and generous. All that He has, all that He is, He gives; all that we are, all that we have, He takes.

Commemoration of John Mason Neale, Priest, Poet, 1866 Christ was common to all in love, in teaching, in tender consolation, in generous gifts, in merciful forgiveness. His soul and his body, his life and his death and his ministry were, and are, common to all. His sacraments and his gifts are common to all. Christ never took any food or drink, nor anything that his body needed, without intending by it the common good of all those who shall be saved, even unto the last day.

Knowledge of ourselves teaches us whence we come, where we are and whither we are going. We come from God and we are in exile; and it is because our potency of affection lends towards God that we are aware of this state of exile.

The measure of your holiness is proportionate to the goodness of your will.

Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy, Whose trust, ever childlike, no cares could destroy, Be there at our waking, and give us, we pray, Your bliss in our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day. Lord of all eagerness, Lord of all faith, Whose strong hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe, Be there at our labors, and give us, we pray, Your strength in our hearts, Lord, at the noon of the day. Lord of all kindliness, Lord of all grace, Your hands swift to welcome, your arms to embrace, Be there at our homing, and give us, we pray, Your love in our hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day. Lord of all gentleness, Lord of all calm, Whose voice is contentment, whose presence is balm, Be there at our sleeping, and give us, we pray, Your peace in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.

Christmas Eve High o'er the lonely hills black turns to gray, Bird-song the valley fills, mists fold away Gray wakes to green again, Beauty is seen again, Gold and serene again dawneth the day. So, o'er the hills of life, stormy, forlorn, Out of the cloud and strife sunrise is born; Swift grows the light for us, Ended is night for us, Soundless and bright for us breaketh God's morn. Hear we no beat of drums, fanfare, nor cry, When Christ the herald comes quietly nigh; Splendor He makes on earth; Color awakes on earth; Suddenly breaks on earth light from the sky. Bid then farewell to sleep: rise up and run! What though the hill be steep? Strength's in the sun. Now you shall find at last Night's left behind at last, And for mankind at last, Day has begun!