O Holy Night!
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appear’d and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary soul rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!
I’m sure I heard this song hundreds of times before the time that sticks in my head. I attended Christmas Vigil with my grandmother. Jimmy Sweet, who was several years older than me stood on the altar and sang this song. He was probably about 12 or 13 at the time and I remember thinking, this is the most beautiful song I had ever heard. Since that day, every time I hear it, I feel a warmth in my heart and am flooded with the memories and magic of Christmas past.
Christmas was a magical time growing up. We would have parties on Christmas Eve, with Aunts, Uncles, and cousins. The morning wait for Nana to come over so we could open our presents. She only lived across the park and sometimes it seemed like forever for her to arrive. Dunkin donuts, a special treat that was bought the night before, since they weren’t on every block and open 24 hours back then. Then my other grandparents and Willie would arrive, and sometimes Aunt Tine would come with them. We would have dinner and Pat, Willie, and I would play.
My brother would serve at a mass, either the Vigil or Midnight.
When I was 8, I was asked to carry Baby Jesus to his manger at Midnight Mass. It was a great honor, as I was the first girl to ever do it. I guess Father Frank was appeasing me because I was upset that girls weren’t allowed to be altar boys. LOL But I took my responsibility very seriously. What a night that was. My dad, a firefighter, had to respond to a large fire in the evening. My brother and I were supposed to nap before mass, however, we secretly were listening to the scanner, and the laughter and conversation of our mom, Nana, and Fr. Frank drinking black Russians. By the time mass was getting ready to start, my dad hadn’t arrived yet.
However, as if by magic, when the music started for the procession, the church doors opened, and in walked my dad and several other firefighters to join their families. I don’t think we children understood the whole magnitude of the situation, but we knew that all was right at that time.
Another Christmas that stands out was one where I truly learned the meaning of Christmas was giving.
I had made a friend who lived at the “non-traditional boarding school”. A nice way of saying he was a ward of the state. We asked if he could spend Christmas at our house. He was 15 at the time and due to growing up in an abusive and neglectful family, he never had a Christmas. My parents made him feel welcome, and on Christmas morning he came out and saw the Christmas tree with presents underneath. He was overwhelmed to see that several packages and stockings had his name on them.
Tears came to his eyes, as he said, I never knew that Christmas and Santa Claus existed. I forgot my presents and stocking, as I watched him open and marvel at his gifts. Then, one small gesture changed a person’s life. I understood Dr. Seuss, “maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store, maybe Christmas, he thought, means a little bit more”.
He ended up graduating and joining the army. He had some mishaps, and did get into some trouble as an adult, but works now with troubled youth. The last time I talked to him, he said, that Christmas, I learned what life and giving was all about.
As I grew older, and those we love started to pass away, new traditions began.
Our Christmas varied, either in Vt., DC or NH. As adults, we became the ones trying to make everything special. We realized that it was those who loved us, that had made the magic and the joy for us as children. Now we had to carry the torch. We became the ones rushing around, buying, wrapping, and making traditions for our children to experience the wonder!
This past few years, many of us have looked at Christmas and wondered where the spirit, joy, and warmth we should feel has gone. Families were kept away by COVID, the world could be nearing a third World War. Commercialism, greed, and technology seem to have killed the magic of Christmas. Feeling the pain and loss of experiencing the first holidays without those you love has dampened the wonder and joy.
But close your eyes, and think back upon your Christmas past. Those happy moments. The ones where in your heart, you felt the love, joy, and magic of giving. The wonder and anticipation. You will find that it hasn’t gone. There is always kindness to outshine the hatred, there is love to outshine the pain, and there is always magic in the eyes of a child experiencing the magic that you make for them.
If you make kindness, love, and giving your lifestyle, the magic will be there for you.
Merry Christmas