Christmas Sonnet

My oldest son worked hard to rake the leaves
Into a corner of our yard. Proud to prove
What all his sweat and effort had achieved,
He took my hand, suggesting where he’d move
The rest tomorrow, to be burned. I gave
Five dollars for the work, advising one
To spend, one to tithe, the other three, to save.
Surely, some righteous zeal to see my son
Budget his labor’s fruit with godly care
Weighed heavy on my mind. May God forgive
What scorn I showed to him, when saying there
Were reasons, he supposed, for giving
          All his earnings to our church, his youthful eyes
          Yearning for me to say that he was wise.

—Brandon Chasteen  

Next
YOU MIGHT ALSO LIKE

JD Vance States the Obvious About Ordo Amoris

James Orr

We are living, it scarcely needs saying, in unpredictable times. But no one could have imagined that…

Thinking Twice About Re-Enchantment

Peter J. Leithart

Since the Enlightenment and the scientific revolution, the story goes, we’ve lived more and more in a…

The Bible Throughout the Ages

Mark Bauerlein

The latest installment of an ongoing interview series with contributing editor Mark Bauerlein. Bruce Gordon joins in…