\n<\/p>\n
The things she knew, let her forget again\u2014
\nThe voices in the sky, the fear, the cold,
\nThe gaping shepherds, and the queer old men
\nPiling their clumsy gifts of foreign gold.<\/p>\n
Let her have laughter with her little one;
\nTeach her the needless, tuneless songs to sing;
\nGrant her her right to whisper to her son
\nThe foolish names one dare not call a king.<\/p>\n
Keep from her dreams the rumble of a crowd,
\nThe smell of rough-cut wood, the trail of red,
\nThe thick and chilly whiteness of the shroud
\nThat wraps the strange new body of the dead.<\/p>\n
Ah, let her go, kind Lord, where mothers go
\nAnd boast his pretty words and ways, and plan
\nThe proud and happy years that they shall know
\nTogether, when her son is grown a man.<\/p>\n
\u2014Dorothy Parker, 1928<\/p>\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The things she knew, let her forget again\u2014 The voices in the sky, the fear, the cold, The gaping shepherds, and the queer old men Piling their clumsy gifts of foreign gold. Let her have laughter with her little one; Teach her the needless, tuneless songs to sing; Grant her her right to whisper to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4302,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12022],"tags":[7028,9751],"dealstore":[],"offerexpiration":[],"class_list":["post-51244","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-activist","tag-mother","tag-prayer"],"yoast_head":"\n