When I was a girl, on Christmas Eve, I’d sleep in my grandparent’s drafty upstairs bedroom with my cousins and siblings. Most of us never slept; our anticipation over Santa was too exhilarating.
So, we’d lay there in the dark singing every Christmas song we could think of, while we listened for any sound of Santa.
One year, as we lay there wide awake, we heard sleigh bells and a very faint, “Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas,” out in the lawn. We all sprang to the window and there he was on the lawn! He waved to us as we pressed our noses to the fogged up glass and we waved back.
Little did we know that our uncle had dressed up like Santa in order to give us a bit of Christmas magic. For me, that night was one of the best memories I have from my childhood.
Life is truly incredible, you know? As a young girl sitting in a bedroom in a small town in southeast Kansas on Christmas back in the 80s, I never dreamed I would one day live in the country where St. Nicholas was actually from. In my mind, Santa was from the North Pole, not Myra, Asia Minor, better known as modern-day Turkey.
Sadly, I didn’t get to visit Myra when we lived there. One year is too little time to see all that you want to see. I did learn more about him though and the real man, the Bishop of Myra, has a great story.
He was generous, he defended Christ’s divinity against Arianism at the Council of Nicaea (also in Turkey) and he was beloved by those who he served as they watched him live out a virtuous life.
The real Nicholas did what the fictional character we’ve created could never do—he actually gave his life for Christ.
That’s why, Catholic Pilgrims, we know about this guy who lived in the 4th century in Asia Minor all these centuries later. Lives given to Christ are attractive and inspiring.
Have a blessed Wednesday.
St. Nicholas, pray for us!
