I understood it all the moment I saw her,
looking like the Evil Emperor from Star Wars,
warily blinking at the world.
The sudden punch to the belly,
a power hit of joy, awe
and fierce fighting fire.
My first thought, "she's beautiful"
very closely followed by my second,
"if anyone hurts her, I'll kill them!"
Woah!
She's not even my child,
she's just my niece,
but she was small, squishy and defenceless.
And something more...
She was a child, a baby.
Not just a symbol,
but the very essence of all that is important
and precious
and vulnerable in this world.
How could you let Him come like that?
The joy of seeing Him born, crushingly overshadowed
by the shit and blood and stench of His death.
I feel sick
and then
wonder-full.
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