On the first crisp and windy fall day, I managed to step out onto an empty playground. It was a rare time of quiet in our school’s busy day, and the birds and butterflies were taking advantage of it. Orange and black monarchs flitted around the pond track and made little stops on the stems and flowers there. For the next two weeks, the kindergarten class would take time to amble along that path looking up and through the plants to see those bright shapes float by, until Thanksgiving came, and we all returned to find the same track looking muddy and a bit empty in the cold. Around the corner, a few days into December, the children could be found in a little huddle on the grass under the trees watching a lone caterpillar, of another kind than monarchs, large and green, making its way to the tree to overwinter.

And here are two types for us to reflect on in the Christmas season: the ones that find rest and are nourished here before they continue to other places, and the ones that dig in and stay for the next season. Perhaps we can imagine what our city must look like from the perspective of a butterfly — large ribbons of concrete, tall grey boxes and back lots until some little spot of green and bright color pops out below, like a lantern in the dark. No small amount of labor, digging, wrangling with milkweed, drains, and watering, made this little oasis possible for both the visiting monarchs and the home dwellers to enjoy.

Our school is like this small pond. It gathers people to it, by cultivating wisdom, virtue, and joy. All our labors would be in vain without these gifts, but we can be thankful that they are present and that our school can give rest to those that find them in a very troubled world. There is a story that springs from our Christmas tradition of the Rest on the Flight into Egypt. The subject of many paintings, this story tells of how St. Joseph was divinely warned of Herod’s murderous intent, and how he took the holy family into Egypt, where they found rest and were attended by miracles. Today, we are seeing these miracles take place again, as souls fleeing from the vanity of the world are filling our churches and families are coming to our own little pond to take refuge from a world that has willfully neglected wisdom, virtue, and joy. Having eternity in our hearts from our being, we naturally wish our labors to have permanence. We want everything that we begin to last forever. We can be thankful again that these gifts have lasting value, even if our students and their families are with us for a short while, even after the last member of our school has finished digging in.

As we reflect on the birth of our Savior, and the labors of their travels, we can take encouragement from the hymns from his most-holy Mother’s final rest, where the apostles gather one last time, however briefly, before going to receive their own crowns. From St. Nikolai’s Dormition hymn: “The arid time, the brook filled, and again, toward the heavens raised; the world exhausted, became refreshed – Life bearing source, we are all boastful of you!”