A Tradition Kept Strong, The Christmas Brunch

Nanny and Pappy (The Husband's parents) would be so happy to know that we are continuing the family tradition of gathering together with siblings, children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews for Christmas brunch. Now that our individual families are growing by leaps and bounds, we have moved the celebration to a Sunday early in December. This year there were twenty-three family members who gathered to celebrate an early Christmas. Nanny and Pappy would have loved the laughter and merriment that ensued. Their hearts would have been made especially glad by the presence of seven great-granddaughters along with the newest family member, a great-grandson! It is a joy to honor Nanny and Pappy by continuing to forge lasting bonds among future generations.

My sister-in-law and her older granddaughter pictured
with our niece and great-niece

There were tables set for wee folks as well as adults!

We are excited to be welcoming this lovely young lady
to our family in the summer!

Arrival of more family!

Little Three loves his Aunt Betta

A bevy of beauties!

Precious nieces!

Loving that delicious brunch!

Thanks as always to my lovely sister-in-law for opening her home to us all!

The Wonder of Christmas In Little One's Eyes

The Husband and I took each of the granddaughters to Cheekwood on separate Saturdays during the holidays. It was such a wonderful experience that we hope to make it a "grandparent" tradition. While the weather was chilly and rainy the day that Little Two made her visit, this past Saturday was one of those winter days you dream about. It was a good thing because Little One was literally bursting with energy. Come, share her joy at the wonder of it all!

Little One had so much fun exploring everything in sight!

"I think this is the Troll House," Little One tells me.

She wants to get as close to the water as possible!

"C'mon Pappy, let's go here..." and off she goes!

"Is this a fairy house???" 

Checking out the trains

"Nonna, are you sure I can't go inside the little fence?" 

The sweetest Santa ever. He really listened to each child.
Little One told him her whole name and where she lived.

Decorating cookies with Nonna. The folks at Cheekwood have this down to a science!

Those eyes say it all...the wonder of Christmas as seen by a child...

Marvelous Wonderful Savior...Come to Earth as a Babe

I never grow tired of marveling over the wonder of it all...

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 A Christmas Poem by Christina Rosetti (written 1872, later set to music)

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, Whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, Whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

Some Children See Him

 Some children see him lily white,

The Baby Jesus born this night.

Some children see him lily white,

With tresses soft and fair.

Some children see him bronzed and brown,

The Lord of Heav'n to earth come down.

Some children see him bronzed and brown,

With dark and heavy hair.

Some children see him almond-eyed,

This Savior whom we kneel beside.

Some children see him almond-eyed

With skin of golden hue.

Some children see him dark as they,

Sweet Mary's Son, to whom we pray.

Some children see him dark as they,

And ah, they love him, too.

The children in each different place.

Will see the Baby Jesus' face,

Like theirs, but bright with heav'nly grace

And filled with Holy light.

O lay aside each earthly thing,

And with thy heart as offering,

Come worship now the infant King,

'Tis love that's born tonight.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

The words to this beloved and oft-sung hymn have never seemed more apropos...

Oh, Come, Oh, Come Emmanuel 

Oh, Come, oh, Come, Emmanuel,

And ransom captive Israel,

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come O Rod of Jesse's stem,

From ev'ry foe deliver them

That trust your mighty pow'r to save;

Bring them in vict'ry through the grave.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, O Key of David, come,

And open wide our heav'nly home;

Make safe the way that leads on high,

And close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, our Dayspring from on high,

And cheer us by your drawing nigh,

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,

And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to you, O Israel!

Oh, come, Desire of nations, bind

In one the hearts of all mankind;

Oh, bid our sad divisions cease,

And be yourself our King of Peace.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to you, O Israel!

The Treasured Nativity

     For the first twenty-five years that my husband and I were married, I bought something reminiscent of the nativity as a part of our Christmas gift to one another. Thus it is that our home at Christmas is filled with creches. When Christmas is over, I don't even put them all away. Some of them remain in place throughout the year as a perpetual reminder of the "Gift" they represent. Some are ornaments that hang upon the tree; others are fashioned of wood, ceramic, or clay, and one set is made entirely of felt...it is perfect for little hands to hold and to move and to place just so over and over again.

Little One and Little Two's favorite creche

    However, my favorite of all the creches is one that unless you know the story is unlikely to draw your attention. Despite is supposed lack of beauty, this particular creche takes center stage in our home and is there to greet you when you open the door to our house; it sits on the entry hall table. It has a base made by one of my children of unfired (basically dried) clay; three little figures made by another of my children (there were once four figures, but sadly, Joseph has completely disintegrated), a banner hand-lettered by yet another child, and finally, a tiny clay plaque made by yet another. In short, it represents the collective efforts of all four of our offspring, but it was not planned to be that way -- it simply happened. 

         The banner is twenty-three years old. I wouldn't trade anything in the world for the "Goly to God in the highest..." Goly was a first grader's way of writing "Glory," but I am sure that God understood exactly what this child of mine was trying to say. Another child lovingly crafted the base which originally was shaped more like a cave and had an overhanging top that has long since broken off. It holds the three figures (there were once four). There is  Mary; she is the figure on the right bending over the tiny figure resting on a bed of clay. It is Baby Jesus but his head is no longer attached to his body and must be carefully positioned or it will roll off on its own. To the left of Jesus and Mary is a lion. When the son who made the figures came home with this nativity with the lion, I had the audacity to ask him, "A lion?" You should learn early never to ask children questions like this, unless you want to immediately be put in your place. I will never forget that he looked at me with something akin to disdain as he said, "Of course, Mommy, the lion goes with the lamb." And so it does. I cried. He patted me. The Lion of Judah and the Lamb of God...they go together, do they not, and indeed, are they not one and the same? Yes, some of the most profound truths come out of the mouth of babes. 
     The final complement to this treasured creche is the little clay plaque in the back: you can barely read it, but in case you can't, I'll tell you: It says, "Jesus I Love You." It was originally supposed to be a cross, an Easter decoration, but when this child brought it home he told me,"I couldn't do the cross, Mommy, I wrote Jesus a letter instead. I thought He might like it better than the cross. I wanted to tell Him thank you." I cried again. He said, "I want it to go with the manger." It was springtime so I asked again, "Do you want me to put it with the Easter things?"  He shook his head firmly. "No, this cross is a letter, and it goes with the manger." 
       How could it be that a child understood something so deep, so powerful, so profound?  How could he grasp at the age of five, the very essence of the cross? How could he know that the cross, the terrible, wondrous cross, is also a letter, an I-love-you letter from a Holy God to His beloved, yet sinful people. 
       So you see perhaps why this tiny fragile nativity holds a place so dear to this mother's heart. Each child of mine made his or her contribution, unplanned unscripted over the course of many years to make it complete. There is a Banner of Love (Goly to God...). A little cave to cradle the Holy Family. A lion to stand guard and to lie down with the lamb.  And finally, a love letter that would and should have been a cross, except that a little boy wanted so much to write this letter to say thank you to Jesus for the cross. And the child knew intuitively that this was no ordinary baby, this was a baby born to die to save us from our sins. Christmas irrevocably linked to Easter. It is no accident that we must become as little children, is it? And once again, I cry, "Lord help my unbelief. Help each of us to believe with the wonder and the certain faith of a child."

    It is my Advent song this year...Merry Christmas!

from the archives

   

No Easy Answers

 Newtown, Connecticut. 

A dot on the map no more. 

Seared in our hearts and minds this day, the fourteenth of December, two thousand and twelve.

Your population of 27,000 has grown exponentially.

Your children have become our children.

Your loss our loss.

Bear ye one another's burdens 
and so fulfill the law of Christ.

We want you to know that you are not alone. 

We are standing with you.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Knees bent.

Hands raised.

Praying.

If our hearts feel raw,

we know that yours feel shredded and torn in two.

The unthinkable has happened.

To you and those you love.

Weep with those who weep.

There is One whose heart breaks with yours.

I am running to Him tonight with your name on my lips.

Suffer the little children to come unto me, 
for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

I am the Good Shepherd. 
My sheep know the sound of my voice, 
and I call them out by name.

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No one can snatch them out of My Hand.

Ever.

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Those who are His are His forever.

Our prayers are with you.

You are not alone.

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