Remembering Christmas Past and Present

This was a strange Christmas – not being able to go shopping for presents and not having the family gathered around the table for dinner.  Thinking about it reminded me of another strange Christmas.

 

The year was 1985.  My husband Pat had died a few months earlier and I wasn’t looking forward to Christmas without him.  I certainly didn’t feel like shopping and we didn’t have any money for Christmas presents anyway, as were drowning in hospital bills 

But it turned out to be a beautiful Christmas!  

I made our usual turkey dinner; mostly for the sake of my 6 children.  They got creative and went thru their closets and found items to wrap and give as “recycled” presents – including a puzzle with one piece missing – which became a popular recycled gift for many Christmases.

After dinner we gathered around the tree.  I don’t remember where or how we got the tree, or exactly what it looked like – except for the star on top, leaning precariously to one side.  But I do remember the beautiful feeling; the soft glow of lights, the warmth, and the love that prevailed.  I think we all knew that Pat’s spirit was still with us – not just in memory, but in the way we felt his love, and sensed his joy, remembering his deep faith in God and belief in the true meaning of Christmas. 

Fast forward to 2020 – which, surprisingly, turned out to be another beautiful Christmas!

My husband Jim and I have been married now for 27 years and our combined 7 children and 13 grandchildren are spread out across the country; but thanks to phone and facetime we were able to share a little bit of the day with each of them.  Since we weren’t going to stores, I brought back the tradition of “recycled” presents and sent each of them books or other items that they remembered from the past. 

Fortunately, one or our sons lives only an hour away, so on Christmas morning we drove our camper over to their house.  He had set up a fire pit in the driveway and my daughter-in-law made a delicious Crème Brulee French toast breakfast which we all enjoyed while maintaining a safe distance around the fire.  As we were exchanging presents, big snow flakes started to fall and it seemed like a scene from a Christmas movie. 

That evening I made our traditional Christmas dinner, even though it was just for Jim and myself.  We sat there in the glow of our Christmas tree lights (with that same star on top) grateful for our life together, for our families, for all of our memories.  

Yes, it was a beautiful Christmas because, even from a distance, we shared the love of family - and remembered God's message of love and peace and hope which is the true meaning of Christmas!  

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Special Day For Me

 Departing from my reflections on Advent, I wanted to share a memory with you.

 

70 years ago today I was in the 5^th grade at St. John’s School in White Plains.  It was my first year in a Catholic school and I was still getting used to the rituals and discipline – and the “habits” worn by our teachers, the Sisters of Charity.  To a child those long black robes made them look a little more than scary.

 

My teacher, Sister Winiferd was especially fearsome.  We thought she was “older than God” though in reality she was probably younger than I am now, but she was definitely too old to know anything about what it meant to be living in the world of an almost 11-year-old girl.

 

I had been warned by the other students to “stay low and don’t do anything to draw her attention”.  But on this particular day, December 13^th, after morning prayers, Sister Winiferd looked straight at me and said “Lucy McMahon, please come up to my desk.”

 

With knees shaking and hands trembling I made my way up the aisle to her desk.  She was even more terrifying up close. Her long robes flowed over her chair onto the floor and the crucifix, from the rosary beads she wore around her formidable waist, dangled dangerously at her side.  A few wisps of white hair escaped the bonnet that the Sisters of Charity wore and, as I stood there quivering, I detected several matching sprigs of hair growing out of her chin. 

 

Wait, was that a smile? 

 

“Do you know what today is?” Sister asked.  I shook my head, afraid to speak.  “Today is a very special day for you,” she explained.  “Today is the feast of St. Lucy.  

 

With a kindly smile, she handed me a holy card and went on to explain that St. Lucy was a beautiful young girl in the days of the early church.  The Romans who were persecuting the church tried to make her disobey God’s law, but she refused, sacrificing her life for her love of God and for what she knew to be right.

 

“You should always be proud of your name,” Sister told me, “And always be true to what you believe.”  

 

To this day I gratefully remember her words, her encouragement and her kindness, and I am reminded that we cannot judge anyone by how they look or what they wear.   

 

And I am proud of my name!

 

 

 

 

Advent Thoughts Continued

  

Advent rushes along.  Christmas comes closer.  We bought our tree from the volunteer fire department.  I work on a family calendar to send as a Christmas present to our children.  But it doesn’t “feel” like Christmas.  

 

Maybe it’s because the weather is so mild – having spent most of my life with New York or mid-west Christmases.  Or maybe it’s because my head is not filled with Christmas music this year.

 

Even before Thanksgiving, stores and malls are usually bustling with Christmas shoppers and Christmas music.  But this year we are not going into stores or to the mall or inside restaurants.  We are not going to Christmas concerts, Christmas caroling.  So this morning I put a Christmas album on my old fashioned stereo and sit outside on my porch, in the sun. 

 

In this peaceful moment, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, listening to flocks of geese flying overhead, I think about the second candle of the advent wreath – symbolizing peace.

 

There may never be peace in the world, but I think that true peace can only come from within. I believe that peace comes from accepting who we are, and where we are, acknowledging that we are not perfect, but confident that we are using our talents and abilities as best we can to reach out and touch those around us with love.  

 

So I reach out to all of you, especially to those celebrating Chanukah today, and pray that peace will be in your lives. 

Thoughts For Beginning the Season of Christmas

 It is Advent, the beginning of the Christmas season – in a year unlike any other.  

I can’t go to mass.  I can’t seem to get into the “virtual” mass.  It’s too cold to sit down by the bay to pray and write in my journal.  

Every morning I come up here to the computer – and do nothing important. Check email.  Check the weather.  Play a few games of solitaire rationalizing that it wakes up my brain.  But nothing important.

 

Feeling so frustrated this morning.  Christmas is less than 4 weeks away.  Today is the second Sunday of Advent – I missed the first Sunday.  It will not be a normal Christmas.  Cannot go to be with family, or even have family here.  

 

So this morning I picked up the “Little Blue Book” of advent that I had saved from our church back in 2006.  The Blue Book contains readings and reflections to stimulate thoughts and prayers, and suggests you “spend six minutes a day with the Lord”.  

 

I can do that.  … and I can Write!  And maybe there will be some value in sharing the thoughts from these “six minutes” on my blog.  So this is my first entry: 

 

Today I spent my six minutes watching a video of our 8-year-old granddaughter taking part in the lighting of the Advent Wreath candle at her school.  The Advent Wreath, with 4 candles is one of the traditions in our church.  Each week, one candle is lit.  

The first candle symbolizes Hope!   So I begin this blog series – and this advent season – with prayers and hope -- for myself and my family -- and hope that the world will recover from the darkness of this Covid cloud.  

There is an old saying that "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". So I pray and Hope that we will persevere through this time and soon be able to take off our masks and share smiles and hugs again.