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Thank you for life, for the Christmas songs, from all corners of the Universe in these shining days of light and joy. It is spontaneous music, full of enthusiasm, full of faith, the faith that we need so much in these shining days that spring from the immense altar of humanity. The blessed music that rises to the ends of the Earth is, without a doubt, the Word of Almighty God. Music for the good of all mankind.

The song, like any melody, is rhythms and songs, silences and cries united in a single voice. Tunes for the desperate, for those clinging to hope. Powerful music where the voice of the prophet can be heard crying out to heaven for mercy, unity, peace, conformity and joy.

And I feel the pulsation of the hours from the altar of God, marking an end to sadness and nostalgia, to tears, vibrating with psalteries and trumpets from the songs of King David for his people.

Hymns of grace, sensitive to the truth and as terrible as the injustice that resonates from oppressed peoples, from the towns without voices: entire nations suffering injustices. These hymns, like other Christmas carols, are heard from afar: distant homelands and remote lands, feeling the same cry of the people in unisonous splendor.

Glorious songs are all you need to read to lift your spirits. You will hear the people of the neighborhood singing new songs, choruses and praises, children singing.

The music of life is rescued from the inhospitable slums of any city in the world, from the bus where you meet new people, admirable people, without luxury cars and without rushing to start the day. We hear the echoes of spiritual compositions, of voices in common, voices in control of themselves, hearing each other in the infinite echo of time.

Songs of refuge, because the refuge is themselves: the orphans of their homeland, the lonely, the people asking for help, are the songs of the humble, of those who do not have a place to sleep or a pillow to rest their heads.

It is the Christmas tunes themselves that embrace the memories, arranging them in the mangers of straw, grass and wood, carrying as a symbol a child, the baby Jesus, the little one. They are songs of the soul that cover the knees when, squatting, the land is plowed. They are the choruses that deserve to be sung while the sun pours its rays on the dry furrows of a field.

They are, therefore, the rhythms of a culture that extend with the trill of the cycles of successes and defeats, of the consecrated cadences, those that understand that Christmas is a time of love, peace and trust.

They are music and songs of the Church, without a doubt, emanating from the sovereign song of life that does not lose the murmur of the soul, neither foot nor footprint, nor pride in the beating of the heart torn by anguish.

Pulsating from the wise lyrics of Christmas, with allusions of love and trust, the voice of others, equal to ours, is heard, propelling the heart because the internal strength is firm in the face of obstacles, especially at Christmastime.

Fashionable music from yesteryear, from the wide corners of dance, from the silence and noise of those who are silent when they speak, of those who speak and do not silence their enthusiasm, their imaginative sounds of love and nobility reverberate every day.

Innocent music, of the fury of lived experience, suffered and overcome. Those are the free songs of Christmas, of the birth of Jesus, of the wide and narrow roads, of the roads where strength grows, where nostalgia resounds, but, above all things, where love vibrates. Love trembles with stoicism, it rejoices when human decisions are just, merciful and universal. Being a call to change, towards the truth of the human experience.

Merry Christmas! 


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