Time flies and I have a feeling that I wrote my last story just a little while ago. Advent, Christmas makes mostly the children happy. As father of two sons I read the following text and it moved me, so I would like to share it here.

Our children are not our children
They are sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself
They come through us but not from us
And though they are with us, yet they belong not to us

We may give them our love but not our thoughts
For they have their own thoughts
We may house their bodies but not their souls
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow

Which we cannot visit, not even in our dreams
We may strive to be like them
but seek not to make them like us
The life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday

We are the bows from which our children
As living arrows are sent forth
The archer sees the make upon the path of the infinite
And he bends us with his might

That his arrows may go swift and far
Let our bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness
For even as he loves the arrow that flies
So he also loves the bow that is stable
Khalil Gibran

The Advent time is a time for reflection. The New Year is just around the corner and with a new year beginning, you realize that you became older again. When I was younger, I made New Year resolutions, that were often broken soon after. So no more of these. 

Instead I strive every day to be a better person, I try to have patience with people around me and, most of all, I try to enjoy the point of my life that I am in now. Yet as I get older, I also notice it gets harder to change lifelong habits. They are like an old coat that fits so comfortably and you don’t want to part with it. 

So now is the time to be with family, enjoy good food – especially my mother’s cooking – and just await the New Year. Think Pink!

Merry Christmas 🎄