Christmas Memories from Autom

Christmas eve of 1980 was my first experience of providing the music for Midnight Mass at Taconic Correctional Facility in Bedford Hills, NY, an experience that has become a tradition every year since. I always knew that Christ was born in a humble stable, but I never witnessed His birth, year after year, in a simple prison chapel, coming to life in the hearts of inmates in a state correctional facility. Silently, sixty inmates (men in 1980; since 1990 a women's facility) processed into our chapel, dressed in their best state clothing, singing traditional carols, and bearing their drummerboy-like hearts to their new born KIng. The King who week after week brings them hope and encouragement to be stronger, better, and more Christ-like. Simple decorations and only the gift of the Lord himself, unwrapped and there for all, is the real celebration of Christmas for me each year.

Come, Lord Jesus - Inspired by my 12 year old grandson, David

The little boy stood before the Christmas crib in the little church.
“Mom,” he cried, “There’s no baby Jesus!”
His mother looked and saw the empty crib.
“He’s gone, my dear.  Jesus has been ignored too long.”
“He will not stay where He is not wanted and not loved.”

“Mom,” where did Jesus go?” the little boy asked.
He’s looking for good boys and girls: the innocent, pure and humble.
He’ll stay with them, as long as they are good and loving children.”

“Mom,” the boy asked, “Will Jesus stay with bad children?”  “No, He cannot.  When we sin, we tell Jesus that we don’t love Him as much as we love ourselves.
Jesus waits until we are really sorry for our sins.  And then He returns!”

“Mom, will Jesus stay in my heart?  I love Him so very much!”
The mother smiled.  “Yes, my son.  Jesus is in your heart now.
Jesus has returned, because you love Him.”

“Mom, look!”  The boy pointed to the crib.  The baby Jesus was there now.
“Look mom, I can see Him.  He’s come back!”
“My son, Jesus never left.  But now your love has let you see Him with your heart.
He’s in your heart and he will always be with you, as long as you return His love.”

“Come, Lord Jesus, into our hearts and remain with us, always!” said the mother.
“Come, Lord Jesus, into our hearts and remain with us, always!” said the boy.
And the three of them went home together, smiling!

First we need to remember that the 12 days of Christmas are after Christmas, not during Advent.  Because of that knowledge, our family leaves Christmas decorations up until after the Feast of the Epiphany.

A couple of years ago, a neighbor asked me if my family was Catholic, since we still had our Christmas lights up and it was the beginning of January.  Yes, I answered her.  She then told me she was also Catholic. 

Since I work part time at the church and teach Sunday School, I wondered why I had never seen them.  So I asked if she attended Mass.  No, they hadn't been in a long time.  In fact their youngest child hadn't been Baptized and he was old enough to be receiving his First Communion.

So for the next few weeks, whenever I saw her, I invited her to Mass.  I told her she could come with me or she could come and sit with our family. I gave her children small prayer books. I talked to her about Confession. In essence I did everything I could to welcome her back to church.

It took a while.  But within the year, her family was attending Mass and her children were going to Sunday School.  She and her husband attended classes so they could have their son baptized.  And when they were ready, they asked me to be his Godmother.

Now, the children have received their Sacraments, the family attends Mass and my neighbor and friend now teaches Sunday School.  All because we keep our Christmas lights up.

Here's my favorite Christmas memory...

It's the '70s. Silver tree that seems to fill the entire room. Color wheel that spins rainbows everywhere. Christmas morning arrives. The room overflows with gifts for eight children, Mom, Dad and Chief, the dog. Santa had arrived! We know because, like every other year, he remembered to place baby Jesus in the manger for us. The first order of business is not opening presents, but honoring the gift of love by singing Happy Birthday to Jesus. We carry on the tradition today with our daughter, hiding Jesus behind the manger until Santa's white-gloved fingers gently move Him into place Christmas morning. We sing Happy Birthday. All is good. This is what Christmas is all about!

A month or so before Christmas, we noticed that my grandma would sit by the door and wait for the mailman. She would always ask us, "If she received anything." Finally, we asked if she was expecting something. My grandma loves to crochet and apparently a couple of months before she had ordered some crochet hooks. We asked her if she mailed out the order she said yes. We figured she probably didn't send for them, they would have arrived by now. Even though we tried to explain this to her, she continued waiting for the mail. A couple of weeks before Christmas, my mom and I were in the craft department of this store and I remembered that my grandmother still had not received her crochet hooks. So I asked my mother if we could buy them for her and give them on Christmas. We did. It was a nice set with different sizes and a carrying case. I was so excited; we wrapped them up and placed them under the tree. My grandma would still wait for the mail man everyday. I didn't want to wait for Christmas to give her the gift, but I did. It was hard for me; I'm not good at keeping surprises. That Christmas, when she opened her gift, her face lit up. She was so happy, she loved the gift. It was exactly what you wanted. She started using the hooks right away. A couple of months after Christmas, my grandmother passed. It's been eight years already and it still hurts as if it were yesterday. I miss her a lot but I know I will see her again. Every Christmas since then I remember her how happy she was. I am so glad that I was able to give her that small gift. I always tell my friends and family to never miss an opportunity to visit with someone or be able to give them something, even if it's the smallest gesture. It's the smallest things that count and these memories will last a lifetime. Amanda - Christmas '01

There were 8 children in our family and our dad was in construction. He always waited until the day before Christmas to get a "free" tree. One year the tree was very tall and had very few branches. My brother and I cut off the bottom of the tree and trimmed the branches. We then tied the branches inside the tree to make it look full. Once it was decorated, none of the smaller children (or anyone else) knew what we had done to make it our perfect tree. My sisters and brothers still talk about that year with fond memories. Our father never told us we were poor...he always said there were people that had less than us and we needed to be thankful for the things we had.

Christmas 2009, I never thought I would be alive for such a beautiful event. I am a seminarian for the Archdiocese of Denver. Last October I was a lucky recipient of the H1N1 Virus, pneumonia and the common flu. I immediately lost consciousness for 32 days, sleeping in a coma. I then was in rehab for 2 weeks to follow. A total of 51 days in the Hospital. Somewhere during this time I had already given up and was pronounced dead. This Christmas will be my second Christmas since my discharge and it has been a blessing ever since. The grace of our Lord Jesus coming into the world had made the seminarians and people through our Archdiocese and possibly the world come together to share in the coming of life, my return to full health. Christmas for me is a time of love and unity after all. Christmas is a time to embrace the cross at the sight of new birth for as always, "Nothing is impossible with God."

Last Christmas was spent with my daughter, son-in-law and their 5 children. When I brought them into a toy store the eldest girl fell in love with a fur real cat and stated she wanted it for Christmas. On Christmas morning her younger sister opened up her gift first and it was another version of the same toy. Upon seeing it Meghan turned to Grace and stated "here, you take this, I know you wanted it for Christmas". I couldn't believe she was giving up her gift for her sister because she knew how much she wanted one of these. She has shown this same generous trait several times since then by giving her things to others she think will be made happy by this. After their last Irish step dancing contest she won 3 medals and Grace won one. Meghan again turned to her sister and gave her one of her medals saying "now we both have two". Meghan just continues to show this giving spirit all year long.

It was never about gifts for our family. My parents were UPC Pentecostals. My dad was a minister and we had no Christmas joy. I know many won't understand, but in my parents' eyes a Christmas tree was a pagan tradition they wanted no part in. Our home was always bare at Christmas. My mom piled presents in a corner. One year a neighbor felt sad for us after I told her I never had a tree, I believe I was 12. Her husband cut down on of his pines and gave it to us. He wouldn't hear of their religious reasons and proceeded to cut the tree. My mom was worried, what if someone from the church drove by and saw the lights from the window?! Oh the horror! That is the best Christmas for me. The simple kindness of neighbors who made one little girl very happy by the simple gift of a pine tree.

My favorite Christmas Memories as a child are of going to Midnight Mass, stomping through the thick snow to get into Church, and of my whole family participating in the Mass in some way, whether be lectoring, Altar serving, Singing, or Eucharistic Minister. It was always the highlight of Christmas and helped remind us that Christ is the focus!

A few years ago, during the Christmas Pageant, the baby Jesus (live baby) started getting fussy in the arms of 'Mary'. This year's 'Mary' did not have much experience holding a little one and she was getting anxious. So as the story went on, the baby was becoming more distressed, as was Mary. At that moment, Gabriel, the head angel, came over and comforted the baby. A while later, the baby fussed again, and Gabriel picked up the baby and cradled him and soothed him. It was so touching to see that take place.

The year was 2004 in Brownsville Texas, located along the coast in the southern most part of Texas. It had not snowed in over 100 years. Christmas Eve we were walking to our car at grandma's house, we did not even notice at first. We thought it was going to start to drizzle. I had my son in arms and my daughter was walking along side me when she dropped her newly received stuffed toy. It was quickly covered in the powdery substance which, still, it had not dawned on me that it was snow. The drive was was dark and the few lights come through between the cars was not enough to see the little brown fur ball. She had started to cry but my sister finally found it and picked it up and handed it to her. I left my mom's house and drove home using the windshield wipers to remove the "ice" from my view. We proceeded to unload and home and go to sleep. At about 1AM my sister and he husband get home from her in-laws and ask me if I've seen the snow. I am speechless and run to the door and find a beautifully covered lawn. At 33, I'd never seen snow before. We stay there for a while and admire the miracle before our eyes and thank God for sending snow our way on Christmas Eve. The next morning I'm calling my 9 and 10 year olds to get up and see the snow. They are too sleepy to care and shoo me away. My sister and I went outside to look and take a few pictures. Our neighbors had been out and about doing the same thing. At about 10 AM they got up to look for the snow. To their great disappointment most of the snow had melted away and only a few patches of snow covered the front lawn and sidewalk.

My Dad died September 12, three days after his 46th birthday, from a heart attack. I was only six but still knew that Christmas was going to be different without him. We put up the tree and went through the motions of getting ready for Christmas that year but still, something was missing. I will never forget that Christmas morning, under the tree was a beautiful doll. Dark hair with a pink ribbon in it, beautiful pink dress. It didn't talk, laugh or sing. It wasn't one that did anything other than open and shut its eyes, but it was the prettiest doll I had ever seen. My Mom explained to me that Dad had bought that doll before he died and it was from him. Not only was he with us in our hearts, but I could feel him present every time I held that doll. I still have it and still think of him every time I look at it.

Christmas 1975 will always have an impact on me, because it was in the early morning hours of December 1st when the Lord called my grandfather 'home.' I remember our neighbors coming by to console us and help with routine tasks. And then came Christmas Eve...that particular year, the retired bishop came to the parish to celebrate Midnight Mass and mentioned grandpa in the commemoration of the dead in the Eucharistic Prayer. He met with us privately to offer his condolences and prayers, and then seeing some tears in my eyes, the bishop knelt down and told me, "Jesus was born to take good care of us, and He's taking good care of grandpa." Perhaps that's what we need to focus on this Christmas- that Jesus was born in order to take good care of us as we continue the journey to life with him. That's good news!

A Favorite Christmas Memory - - For me it was years ago when I was pastor of a parish that strived to capture a "picture perfect,” Currier and Ives Christmas. By Midnight Mass all was in place. The trees (perfect and perfectly lighted, of course) were in place. Perfect poinsettias surround the sanctuary. The choir sang perfectly, leading into the opening procession. In a dimly lit church the choir led the entrance procession, softly humming Silent Night while a soprano with perfect pitch sang the verses. As the ministers arrived front and center, there before the altar itself was the Nativity Scene, all perfectly arranged. Or so it seemed! In the haste before that night someone had left a roll of scotch tape directly in the center, right where the figure of the Infant should have been! So much for the Perfect Christmas. This time everything centered around a roll of scotch tape! And from that year on that memory has served to remind me that, try as we may, we cannot make Christmas "perfect." Only One Thing makes Christmas "perfect" -- or should I say only One Person!

My favorite Christmas memory is from 1984. My boyfriend could not come with me to my mother's house in St. Paul. He sent a package with me with strict instructions not to open it until Christmas. My niece/goddaughter was with me when I opened it first thing Christmas morning to find an engagement ring inside. We both screamed at the same time. We recently celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary.

I was ordained a priest on December 6, St. Nicholas' Day, in New Orleans. On the morning of December 24, I drove to Starkville, MS, and arrived there in time to say an early-evening Christmas Eve Mass for a small mission that would not otherwise have been able to have a sacramental holiday celebration. It was special to me because it was my first celebration of the Christmas service and because the people there were extraordinarily grateful for the gift of the Sacrament on that special day. One of the families, which always had its holiday dinner on Christmas Eve, took me to their home, where I ate with them and, after, they and their children opened their presents, and so sharing with me the warmth of their family celebration. Then they lent me their guestroom, where I napped for a few hours, rose at oh-dark-thirty, and drove back to New Orleans, where I arrived at my church just in time to say the Christmas morning Mass. That year, I got to celebrate Christmas three times: twice in Church and once with that family. It was an indescribable feeling and, for the first time in nearly thirty years, it recaptured for me that sense of awe and wonder I had always felt as a child on Christmas morning. And best of all, for each of the 23 years since, that same childlike sense of awe and joy has returned every Christmas Eve and Day, so that was truly the Christmas gift that kept on giving! John+

When my father was a little boy there were seven children in his house in Kansas. Farming was hard work and Christmas was always anticipated for its rest, family memories, gifts, and "the Bible story". When time came to receive their stockings they were so delighted. Each child received in their old baggy sock, one orange, one apple, one banana and a piece of chewing gum. Clarence was the youngest child and as he began to cry they all noticed that his orange was rotten. Everyone felt sad for him, but no one wanted to give up their coveted goodies. But Sam, his older brother, couldn't stand it. He told Clarence "Don't cry. You can have mine. I don't like them anymore anyway." Clarence was so overjoyed and rewarded his brother with a great hug. Years later Clarence would discover that his brother Sam loved oranges, but didn't want his little brother to do without.

When I was on Christmas break from college, my good friend and I decided to go to church on Christmas Eve. Neither of our families was active in church, and to make matters all the more interesting, she was a Catholic and I was a Methodist! We lived in a suburb of Washington DC, and though our decision was a spur of the moment we were sure that there would be plenty of churches open and having a late service. We traveled all over town, finding that most of the available churches had their Christmas Eve services early (perhaps to accommodate those families that were concerned about the timing of dinner)? After hours of arriving at churches that were just letting out or had already grown dark and cold, we gave up. We decided that we would just go to a Chinese restaurant and celebrate together. That was the decision that changed everything! On our way to the restaurant, we passed a Roman Catholic Church that wasn't letting out, but welcoming people in! It was a Christmas miracle that we shared in - two kids from different denominations and traditions truly shared in the Christian faith. It was one of the most memorable worship experiences that I have ever had. The homily was on giving ourselves to God. Over a decade later, even though I myself am now a United Methodist pastor and a father of 2, this was one the most special, memorable, and life-impacting Christmas memories I have.

One of my favorite Christmas memories was when I was in 8th grade at Guardian Angels School. We had a name drawing to see who would be Mary in the procession at Midnight Mass. I was shocked--and a little nervous to learn my name had been drawn! Our little procession practiced several times, and I can still recall being told to whisper to the younger children when to bow and other instructions. I carried baby Jesus on a pillow as we went up and down the aisles. We were ready! Christmas Eve came, and I have to admit to a few butterflies in my stomach as we edged closer to Midnight Mass. I put on my long blue dress and a long veil, and we began the lengthy procession. So many people! The church was packed! It was beautiful though, especially with the Christmas music. I particularly remember "Away in a Manger": "The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay." I have a tender memory of lying Baby Jesus in the hay. My 'job' was done! It was a little nerve-wracking, but really an honor to be selected for the honor of playing Mary.