When I was a kid, Christmas Eve was a magical night. Some of my dearest memories are from those special evenings with my family. Everyone would show up at my grandparent’s house before dinner was ready. The house always smelled like heaven–baking food, pine, and candles. My grandmother always had the house beautifully decorated and there was a warmth about the home that wasn’t just related to the heater pumping out hot air. Grandma would be in the kitchen fussing about; worrying that dinner wouldn’t be perfect. Trust me when I say it never disappointed. We always feasted like kings and queens. A grandmother has an incredible ability to make ordinary food turn into the most wonderful tasting spread one can ever imagine. I am positive that the secret ingredient is grandma love.
There is one Christmas that stands out in my memory above all the others: It was the year I saw Santa. On Christmas Eve, after dinner was over, the talent show was performed and a few presents were opened, the kids all went upstairs to sleep. There were five of us, but only one bed. We slept in a huge, drafty room that at one time had been my uncle’s. Since there was only one bed, some of us had to sleep in chairs with our feet propped up on TV trays. It was such uncomfortable sleeping, but none of us really slept anyway. Before we would all attempt sleep, my uncle would come upstairs and recite the annual reading of the poem “Old Man Winter.” He read it in a deep almost mysterious tone, which completely set the mood of the short poem. I can still remember the opening line: “Nothing pleased Old Man Winter. The birds with their chirping were most annoying.” I cherish the memory of him reading it to us. After the poem, he would leave us and go downstairs to play Trivia Pursuit with the grown-ups. We could always faintly hear their laughing and shouting. The sounds of a family enjoying each others’ company is incredibly comforting.
Upstairs, we would all try to sing every Christmas song we could think of, which was just a distraction from sleep. We’d laugh and laugh when we couldn’t remember verses. At some point in the night, we’d all fall silent but sleep was restless. On this one particular Christmas, I had dozed off but was roused from my light sleep by the sound of sleigh bells. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing, but when I did, I jumped out of bed and scurried to the window. I could hear the bells coming from outside. I pushed back the curtain and there, much to my amazement, standing on the lawn was Santa Claus! He waved at me and my heart started racing. I quickly called out to my cousins to hurry to the window. They sprang out of bed and we gathered around, our breath creating a fog on the chilled glass. We stared in absolute wonder at Santa down on the lawn. It was incredible. He shouted out in a muffled voice, “Ho, Ho, Ho! Merry Christmas!” It was almost more than my heart could stand. Someone–I don’t remember who–suggested we get in bed fast so that he could come inside and deliver our gifts. It was difficult to tear my eyes away from Santa, but we had to be in bed or he wouldn’t come inside the house. I mean, every kid knows the Santa rules. I crawled back under the covers and my mind thrilled at the thought of Santa down in my grandparents living room. I don’t think I slept another minute that night and the hours painfully ticked away. The next morning, like a herd of elephants, we kids thundered down the stairs to see what Santa had left us.
That night will forever be one of my favorites.
You know, I can remember a few special presents I got from my childhood days. I remember my Carebears, my K-state beanbag chair, my middle school letter jacket, and a few other things, but that’s about it. Funny, isn’t’ it? We spend so much time running around attempting to get the most perfect presents, but, yet, gifts fade from our memories. What hasn’t faded is the smells: Fresh pine, warm homemade rolls, pie, turkey and stuffing, and candles. I can still remember the sights of all the things I loved: Seeing how big of a tree my grandparents had gotten. Some years it seemed to spill out of the music room. The table beautifully set for all my loved ones. The special decorations my grandmother put out. I can still hear the noises: The sound of my great-aunt saying, “Yoohoooo!” as she came in the door. Kids laughing. Mannheim Steamroller on the stereo. The tastes are seared in my mind. It’s the feelings, though, that grip me the most. The feeling of love spilling throughout the home. All the people there were/are people that loved and cared for me. I used to squeeze under the Christmas tree with my cousins and look up into the tree at the lights. Why is that such a magical thing to do? I can’t explain it, but it is. It always made me feel safe, secure, and special. Whenever I think back on those times, I never think of the gifts I got, but all the rest.
As Catholics, we are entering into Advent. It’s a meaningful time that can truly draw us closer to Christ. Enjoy this time. Nothing has to be over the top or too extravagant. What matters most during this time is Christ and family. Part of the reason my Christmasesย were so special is that my grandmas took such care in making us all feel loved. It’s okay to slow down. It’s okay to not get it perfect. It’s okay to not find the most perfect presents. I think what matters is being present in the moment. At Mass, focus on the true meaning of the season. At home, find traditions that are special to your family. So often, we look at holidays and seasons as just something to get through…so we can move on to the next thing to get through. Advent reminds us to slow down and relish this time.
Giving this season to Christ can add that “magic” back into what has become a very commercial time. By focusing on Him, we feel that spark of the supernatural touch our hearts, the way Christmas did when we were younger. As adults, we tend to forget the awesome power that comes with Advent and Christmas. We lose that childlike wonder. We try to live through our kids’ belief in Santa because it helps spark that thrill we had when we were young. Yet, we don’t have to lose that thrill. Christ is thrilling, I promise you He is. Santa isn’t real, but Christ is and there is no relationship more important.
The Church gives us this time to awaken our hearts and minds. If we have the right mindset, this can be a true time of joy, peace, and beautiful memories. It’s all what we make of it, but the opportunity for a very memorable time is there for each one of us.
I pray you allย have a truly blessed Advent season, Catholic Pilgrims.
