Today was a dreary day on campus, cold, wet, and gray. It’s also the last day of the study period before finals begin and between these two things there were very few people about:
I don’t know whether this is paradoxical or not but this cold, damp, quiet day turned out to be the day I began to feel the weight of the long fall semester come off my shoulders and the anticipation of Christmas miraculously begin. How lucky we are to be here!
In 1971 Rice’s annual Christmas in the Chapel departed from the usual musical offerings. Instead of choral works the Rice Players presented W.H. Auden’s great long poem on the meaning of the Incarnation, For The Time Being, written during some of the bleakest days of 1942. I wish I had been there to see this: