NeuroDivine

The tenth day of Christmas rarely draws attention. No feast, no fanfare, no special observance in the Church of Ireland—just a quiet winter day held within Christmastide’s long, slow glow. Yet for many of us, especially those who move through the world with neurodivergent rhythms, these “unmarked” days can feel like home. They offer space to breathe, to notice, to let the light settle.

Across Ireland, early January brings bright, low skies and nights that sharpen into clarity. The land rests, the air stills, and the smallest details—a rimed hedgerow, a sudden shaft of sun across a bog—become their own kind of revelation. This hymn was written for that landscape and that experience: the grace that hides in plain sight, the presence of Christ in ordinary hours, the holiness of a day that asks nothing of us except attention.

It’s an invitation to recognise that incarnation continues—not only in the great feasts, but in the quiet, cold, beautiful days where light and tenderness meet.

Hymn for the Tenth Day of Christmas

Common Metre (8.6.8.6)

1.
Still shines the Child of Bethlehem
through bright and brittle days;
the low sun sweeps our winter fields
and warms our hearts to praise.

2.
No feast is set, no saint recalled,
yet Christ is near and kind;
his presence threads the frosted air
and steadies heart and mind.

3.
Across the bogland’s quiet breath,
through hedgerows rimed with white,
the grace that stirred in Bethlehem
still walks our land in light.

4.
On cold, clear nights when stars hang low
above the sleeping earth,
we trace the promise shepherds saw—
a sky that sings his birth.

5.
So keep us faithful, Christ our Lord,
as Christmastide grows thin;
that when Epiphany draws close,
your radiance shines within.

Text Copyright (c) Michael McFarland Campbell 2025.