|
|
Other Anglican News |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chronicles of St George |
|
|
The Chronicles of St. George is the parish newsletter. It is published quarterly. Since the summer of 2008 it is published as an Acrobat (PDF) file. To read the Chronicles you will need Adobe Acrobat Reader (a free download from Adobe).
Chronicles #75 (July 2008). If you wish to have a copy of any issue of the Chronicles since July 2008, you may send a request to stgweb@shaw.ca. Issues since then include: November 2008, January 2009, April 2009, June 2009, October 2009, January 2010 and April 2010. If you wish, you may request to be put on a list to receive your copy automatically to your email address.
|
|
|
|
Archived Chronicles |
|
|
Last Updated:
Monday 17 Mar, 2008, 02:30 PM
|
| Choose Issue |
|
|
|
Issue: |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Issue Contents |
|
|
|
|
The Legend of The Trees
A hymn based on a story told by the Rt. Rev. G.E. Reindorp, Bishop of Guildford, when he was in Christ Church Cathedral, Vancouver, BC, Sunday February 22, 1970.
Herbert O’Driscoll, 1970
Three tall trees grew on a windy hill
Close by a Hebrew town;
And oft they thought what the hand of man
Would do when he cut them down.
“A cradle,” said one, “for a child I will be.”
“As a ship,” said another, “will I sail the sea.”
“I will stay,” said the third, “I will stand strong and free,
And point men to God on high.”
One day man walked on that windy hill,
Came where the tall trees stood;
And one by one did he work his will
As he sought for the best of wood.
From one did he fashion a manger stall,
From another the keel of a fish boat small,
But the third he laid by the workshop wall,
So straight did it stand, and high.
The seasons passed on the windy hill
Close by a Hebrew town;
That manger cradled a baby still,
And a star in the east looked down.
And when as a teacher he spoke on the shore,
That boat was brought and the Lord it bore,
And across the waters he taught them more
Of love, and a God on high.
A voice cried “Halt” and a prisoner stood,
Bleeding, and bound, and still,
While they chose for his cross the last of the wood
That had grown on that windy hill.
It had cradled a baby asleep and awake,
It had held the sail on a stormy lake,
Now it bore him aloft for the whole world’s sake,
The Son of the God most high.
Here endeth
the Chronicles
Lady Ed
|
|
|
|