Poetry Friday: Do not go gentle into that good night (because Covid is not a good night)

 

The last time I posted here was the day I ordered Covid tests for both of my parents. 

They were both sick; both tested positive. Mom is not over it yet but she's getting a bit stronger every day. Dad is in the hospital. 

This is an insidious, brutal, unpredictable virus. It goes after a body with impunity, wreaking havoc wherever it can, searching for weaknesses and loopholes. 

My dad is 86 years old, but this was not meant to be "his time." I come from a long line of people who live a long, long time. Mom and Dad reside in a retirement community but live independently. Dad drives, writes novel after novel, goes to local writers' meetings and conferences (or at least he did, before this pandemic.)

When the pandemic hit, we all took precautions. We wanted to keep my parents safe as well as protect our immunocompromised daughter. Our visits with Mom and Dad in the last nine months have all been at a distance. We wore masks, my family stayed outside while Mom and Dad stayed in their apartment and we visited through a screen door. For eight months, their retirement community did an admirable job of keeping the virus at bay. Not a single case made it through the front door. But in November, that changed. Mom and Dad continued to be vigilant, going out only for doctors' appointments. Somehow, one of them caught it and then they both got sick. 

And so now Dad is in a hospital bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses who are trying to save his life. So, yes, I will rage against this virus, I will rage against those who cavalierly speak of this virus affecting "only the elderly" and "just the immune-compromised" and those who say, "Only 1% will die, so what?" Every single life is meant to be treasured. Souls are not meant to be turned into statistics to kick around on Facebook. 

I will not go gentle into that good night. Not under these circumstances, not with this virus, not with this pandemic, not with my father's life. 

Do not go gentle into that good night 

by Dylan Thomas 

Do not go gentle into that good night, 

Old age should burn and rave at close of day; 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, 

Because their words had forked no lightning they 

Do not go gentle into that good night. 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright 

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, 

Rage, rage against the dying of the light. 

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

(Read the rest here; the poem's still under copyright.)

~~~~~~~~~~

Michelle Kogan has the Poetry Friday roundup today. 

A No-Panic Advent: The Monstrously Long Post

I'm a few days late with this Advent post. (Well, hey, it's 2020. Everything in my schedule is off and the concept of time has been wibbly-wobbly.) 

But 2020-insanity or not, Advent is still one of my favorite times of the year. I love the anticipation, the preparation, the reflection, and the beauty of this liturgical season. When I first wrote the posts below, my daughters were young and their faith was still being formed, so Advent obviously looks different at our house these days. Our two grown daughters have moved out and we have just one 18-year-old living with us. (Yes, "Ramona" — who was three years old when I started this blog — is 18. Sigh.) It's time to write some new Advent posts and reflect on what Advent means to me these days. But in the meantime, if you still have younger kids at home, I hope this post lends a little bit of peace, calm, and/or beauty to your Advent preparations. 

The "No-Panic Advent Series": 

Updated, December 2020

I first wrote these posts as a series in 2008. 
The next year, I pulled them together into one enormous post. 

That post looked insane and intimidating, but I still liked it. 

(Forgive me my fervor.)

Remember this: 
No one does everything in these posts, 

not even me, and I wrote them. 

This collection is a springboard, a pool of ideas, 

a bunch of memories, 

and hopefully a little bit of help 

as you watch, wait, 

and prepare for Jesus during Advent.

~~~~~~~~~~

Part I: Note some dates

It's Advent! Mark some dates on the calendar. You know that's the only way you'll remember anything. 

Stuff that goes on my calendar:

*The first Sunday of Advent (Before the first Sunday rolls around, I try to buy candles for the Advent wreath. Sometimes I've been so organized that I bought them the previous year and packed them away with the wreath. But I never know if I've done that until I unpack the wreath.) 

*December 5: St. Nicholas Eve. (Extremely important. St. Nicholas doesn't go to bed without remembering to do a few things first.)

*December 6: St. Nicholas Day

*December 8: Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception (Holy day of obligation!) 

*December 12: Our Lady of Guadalupe

*December 13: St. Lucia

*December 17: O Antiphons begin (I always intended to do something with these, but rarely did. Here's an idea from my daughters' godmother.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you haven't observed any of these feast days in the past, do not — I repeat, do not — feel pressure to do so.  Listen up: No one does it all.

Pick just one or two things to focus on. Have fun with them. Advent observances are meant to deepen our faith, help us pause, reflect, and draw closer to God. Stressing out about how perfectly we're doing stuff (or whether we're doing it at all) doesn't deepen our faith. It just irritates us.

God doesn't want us irritated as we prepare for the coming of His Son. That would kinda defeat the purpose of the Prince of Peace, wouldn't it? Meaningful preparation is the key. No panic necessary. Just keep your eyes fixed on Jesus.


Part II: The Jesus Stocking

I started the Jesus Stocking when Anne-with-an-e was very young. I wanted to keep us focused on Jesus rather than all the other trappings (delightful and fun though they are) of the holidays. Ours is a simple stocking and I just used fabric paint to add His Name.

What goes in the Jesus stocking? It can be whatever you like -- we've done it a couple of different ways.

As with our Thanksgiving Tree, over dinner, we each name something we're thankful for, write it down, and add it to the stocking. On Christmas day, it's fun to read all the blessings that were counted during Advent, from the littlest things (in the old days, that might be a tea party with Tigger), to grown-up concerns (such as being thankful that, on a sub-zero day, the car chose to break down in the driveway instead of twenty miles from home), to everyday-but-enormous joys (friendship, family, faith, coffee.) Here are some samples from years past:

Another way to use the Jesus Stocking is for corporal and spiritual works of mercy. You're probably familiar with the idea of setting up a manger for baby Jesus and filling it with soft hay (we use yarn in a basket) in preparation for Christmas day. The Jesus Stocking can be used the same way. Corporal and spiritual works of mercy, small sacrifices, kindnesses, and prayers are recorded and dropped in the stocking as gifts for Jesus.

For the first couple weeks of Advent, the Jesus Stocking is the only one hanging on the mantle (the small tree to the right is our Jesse Tree):


That lone stocking reminds us that He is at the center of the celebration. Surrounded by our favorite Advent books and calendars, this place of honor for the King is a constant reminder that what we anticipate in this season of hope is not a gift, but the Gift: our Lord and Savior.


Part III: The Jesse Tree

I call the Jesse Tree a "family scrapbook" because through its stories we learn about our spiritual family and salvation history.

This is probably the most educational Advent activity we do. (Remember, though: life is school, and school is life, so it's all educational.) I used to post a small sign next to the tree (just in case my children forgot what I was educating them about) that read, "Finding Jesus in the Old Testament" and that's exactly what a Jesse Tree helps us do. It points to the truth that Christianity is not a new idea, nor a religion dreamed up and perpetuated by a motley crew of fishermen and tax collectors. It is the fulfillment of God's story — our story — from the beginning of time.

Reading the Scriptures that point us to Jesus brings all those seemingly disconnected Bible stories together into a meaningful fabric, a tapestry of history that makes sense to even the youngest of children. When we compare it to a family's scrapbook, it becomes a metaphor children can easily understand. The symbols we hang on our tree are snapshots of the history of Jesus, which is our history, too.

We use ornaments made from salt dough, which tends to break, so we've been through a couple sets of ornaments. I used to keep them right under the tree, within easy reach for the daily readings but you may not want to do that if you have babies or toddlers. The reason I no longer keep them there is we now have a dog who finds salt dough a delicacy. (P.S.: For young kids, I recommend scheduling the ceremonial hanging in a basic, "No bickering — your turn will come tomorrow," rotation to avoid fights breaking out.)

I started using a small, artificial Christmas tree as our Jesse tree several years ago. Before that, I dithered (oh, wow, did I dither!) trying to find the best way to approach this activity. One year we did poster board and a hodgepodge of paper and 3D ornaments; another year I searched in vain for the perfect tree branch to place in a pot, a la a friend's example. Nothing satisfied me or made the Jesse Tree easier. 

One year, I realized I was trying so hard to make the activity perfect that  I abandoned the whole thing in frustration. Another year our tree was hastily thrown together on construction paper. I was pregnant then with Ramona (at a very tired age 41) and was extraordinarily pleased with myself simply for breaking out the glitter. I called it a win. 

I was finally inspired to use our artificial tree by a friend who used her full-size Christmas tree as a Jesse Tree hanging Jesse ornaments during Advent and replacing them with Christmas ornaments on Christmas Eve. That felt like far too much work to me, so I adapted the idea. I pulled out the old 4' tree I'd been considering giving away, and our Jesse Tree dilemma was finally settled. My kids were 11, 8 and 2 when I figured this out. So. Huh. It took a while.

What readings do we use? That took time to figure out, too. I have to confess that for a while, I reeeally disliked the whole Jesse Tree activity because I couldn't find an easy, workable, all-in-one version anywhere. If one source had ornaments I liked, it didn't offer appealing readings. If I liked the readings in a different version, suddenly my ornaments didn't match up with the daily readings.

Harumph. Then, my English pal, The Bookworm came to the rescue, and we settled in with a book she recommended.

The Jesse Tree by Geraldine McCaughrean combines a picture/storybook with all the Scripture readings I want to cover. I use this book and a Bible to completely cover it all.

An important point to remember about the Jesse Tree — and one that will keep you from falling into petulance — is that it doesn't have to be done perfectly on schedule or legalistically. Missing days of readings here and there? It's okay! Catch up if you have time, and don't worry about it if you don't. What you're aiming for is increased familiarity with Scripture and a growing understanding that Jesus is present in the Old Testament.

In the same way that little math students do the same multiplication problems year in and year out, students of the Jesse Tree study "the same old thing" each year, with the result being steady and continued growth and knowledge. It isn't immediately transforming. It's an activity that grows on you, that grows on your kids, and most of all, that increases everyone's fluency with the word of God over time.

What matters is that you're digging into Scripture. Your ornaments might be hastily assembled, glitter-glopped and slapped on poster board, or they might be carefully crafted in the weeks leading up to Advent. Your readings might come from one source while your ornaments are nabbed from another. The bottom line is you should do what works for you and your family, for your possibly-tired-or-pregnant-or-incapacitated body, your crafty or craft-challenged self, your one child or your big brood.

Don't do what I did. Don't let the quest for "the perfect Jesse Tree" squelch a great way to spend time with God's word. Relax and have fun with it, and keep that big picture in mind.

Part IV: Files

This is simple.

Keep an Advent file. Online and/or paper files, whatever works.

Toss good ideas into your file as you stumble upon them. When you're halfway through Advent, or seven days into the Twelve Days of Christmas and you discover a great new idea, don't kill yourself trying to implement it right this very minute.

That idea will still be there next year. Don't try to do it all. 

That's what files are for: to hold all the great ideas and the inspiration you're not pursuing at the moment, but will follow up on sometime. Another year.


Part V: Don't Sweat a Little Secularity

Or, "What Does Miss Piggy Have to Do with Advent?"

Unexpectedly, Miss Piggy became a part of our Advent traditions many years ago.

When Anne-with-an-e was very little, my mother gave us an Advent calendar: twenty-four mini books, one for each day of December until Christmas. The calendar featured Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog bringing the O. Henry story, The Gift of the Magi, to fuzzy, muppety life. My daughter delighted in the story and looked forward each year to the books, which we read and hung by their decorative little ribbons on the tree.

One year (before Atticus came into the Catholic Church), I worried that I shouldn't include anything secular in our Advent traditions and I considered leaving the Muppets in their box. I was trying so hard to impress on the kids what the season was really all about. I was determined — without my husband's help and that made it seem a heavier burden — to make sure my children focused on Jesus. Though I was well-intentioned, I think I was wrong to approach it so rigidly.

That year, at the beginning of Advent, Anne immediately requested the Muppet Calendar, the one "Grandma gave us." Ummm, yeah. I suddenly saw that this was a beautiful way to include my mother (who is not a Christian) in our Advent preparations. She lives far away and we see little enough of her as it is ... wasn't this a lovely way to make her a part of our focus on Jesus?

I let go of my worries about the little secular traditions that we include in Advent. Those things are part of our shared family history and they connect us to those in our family who are not connected to Jesus.

Who am I to say that God can't work through a Muppet?


Part VI: Simple but Cherished Traditions

Here are a few other easy ways we observe the beginning of the new liturgical year.

The Advent Wreath

Pretty self-explanatory. We love ours. It's a hand-me-down from the friend who introduced me to Catholicism. It's not about how the wreath looks (mine is imperfect and messy, kind of like me) but rather what it reminds me of and Who it points to.

I've used various prayers over the years. (In 2011, I adopted Sarah Reinhard's Welcome Baby Jesus. It sounds as if it's only for very young children, but there's enough substance in that little book to make it fruitful for all ages.)

When my daughters were young, we divided up the "duties" — one child lit a candle, one read a prayer, and one got to snuff out the candle at the end of the meal (our antique candle snuffer made that task particularly coveted.) Some nights, though, everyone reeeeeally wanted to light a candle, or everyone reeeeeally wanted to snuff one out. So, we often relit candles and snuffed them out repeatedly. Because we're easily amused.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daily Prayers

The girls and I pray together before breakfast every morning. Let me amend that: unless something interrupts our routine, we pray together. If we have missed morning prayer, it becomes obvious. A hovering crankiness and irritability are sure signs that I forgot morning prayers.

I vary our prayers with each liturgical season. Mounting a list of prayers on construction paper and posting them on the kitchen wall is a simple way to teach about liturgical colors. Ramona knows that if the prayers are on a green background, we're in ordinary time. Advent prayers are on a purple background, and so on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An Embarrassment of Advent Calendar Riches

We still read from our Muppet calendar every year and we also have another one based on A Christmas Carol: 

Another Advent calendar (yet another gift from my mother) is a wooden Christmas tree and twenty-four tiny ornaments to hang on it.

And, who can resist a chocolate-a-day? It's a must-observe at our house. One year Ramona even added some heavy-duty protection in the form of bungee cords. Gotta keep that chocolate safe. 

What if you can't find one of those chocolate-a-day calendars? (They seem to be getting harder to find, at least in my town.) One year, I waited too long and I was out of luck. In true Karen-Shortcut style, I proposed throwing a bowl of chocolates on the dining room table and inviting the kids to have one every day. But a crafty friend saved the day, chocolate-ly speaking. 

What I would've considered a major project, because it involved plugging in the glue gun, my friend saw as a nano-blip in her day. My kids were hanging out at her house and so she decided, "Why not take care of this little problem?" They made these Advent candy ribbons:

A Hershey kiss for every day of Advent. Glued to ribbons. Then, the primo candy at the top, for the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany:

Presto. Instant Advent calendar. 

We also like to buy Jacquie Lawson's interactive Advent calendar every year. It's lovely and fun. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Young kids might also want to:

* Fill an empty manger to make a soft bed for the long-awaited Baby Jesus (I use a small basket and pieces of yarn)

* Decorate a Christ candle (I have used inexpensive white candles that could be decorated with sequins and jewels. The candle sits in the middle of the Advent wreath and is lit on Christmas day.)

* Ready Mary and Joseph for their long journey (Their figures are placed as far from the Nativity set as possible, and children move them a little closer to the stable each day. Baby Jesus shows up on Christmas morning.)

Part VII: Our Favorite Advent Books

Our favorite Advent and Christmas books sit under our Jesse Tree, like the gifts that they are.

Here, in no particular order are some of our favorite books.

And, here's the "No Panic" part: Although we own many of these books, we certainly don't own them all. I make frequent use of the library, then every year I purchase just one or two new books to add to our collection.

The other "No Panic" detail: We don't read all of these every year. We'll definitely read our dearest favorites, but other books will rotate. For example, one year, we focused on all of the American Girl Christmas stories, baked related treats, and learned more about Christmas in other times and places. Read and do only what works for you. It's not a race. [ETA: Sadly, several of these books are now out of print. Hopefully your library will come through.]





The Donkey's Dream by Barbara Helen Berger is an all-around favorite. In this post, I talked about this book and "how literature teaches us beautiful things."







The first time we read The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey I cried a bucket. What a touching story about love and patience, healing and Christmas. Recommended with vigorous nodding of the head and tears in my eyes.

The Twenty-four Days Before Christmas, by Madeleine L'Engle, has long been a favorite. 

The Tale of Three Trees: A Traditional Folktale is a story that can be read anytime, but is especially good for Advent and Lent.

It's a simple, beautifully illustrated book that helps children to see that God will answer our prayers, but not always in ways we can foresee.











The feast of St. Nicholas has us reading The Miracle of Saint Nicholas and The Real Santa Claus: Legends of Saint Nicholas (Yikes! Looks like that one's gotten rare.)








We used to get this one on inter-library loan, but last year I actually nabbed a copy of it and I didn't even have to barter my firstborn child! (ETA: This out-of-print rarity went for a pretty penny for a while and now is impossible to find. Luckily, Melissa Wiley has shared this lovely read-aloud on YouTube.)







We love Tomie de Paola's The Legend of the Poinsettia and The Night of Las Posadas. Don't forget Jingle the Christmas Clown and An Early American Christmas (yikes, two more rare books! Check your library and watch your library sales.) Country Angel Christmas is a sweet one, too. And, anything else by Tomie de Paola that we can find.







 My sister gave The Legend of the Candy Cane to Anne-with-an-e when she was very little. A very sweet book.











It has become a tradition that both The Legend of the Candy Cane and Jan Brett's The Night Before Christmas must be read by Atticus on Christmas Eve.








Gennady Spirin's rendering of The Christmas Story is gorgeously illustrated. I think I bought this one for me.










Okay, so I cry a lot. Yes, I cried at this one, too. A lot. Love this book. Silver Packages is beloved by all — well, at least by all the females in the house. Atticus has probably never read it, but then, he doesn't love to cry like we do. 







More and more:

The Legend of the Christmas Rose by William Hooks
Bright Christmas : An Angel Remembers by Andrew Clements
This Is the Star by Joyce Dunbar
Jesus by Brian Wildsmith
A Christmas Story by Brian Wildsmith
The Gift of the Magi (this version, illustrated by P.J. Lynch, is on my wish list for "Books to Add This Year")
Hark! A Christmas Sampler by Jane Yolen
This Is the Stable by Cynthia Cotten
The Story of Christmas (Orchard Paperbacks) by Jane Ray
Christmas with Anne and Other Holiday Stories by L.M. Montgomery
The Christmas Story by Kay Chorao
A Little House Christmas Treasury: Festive Holiday Stories (Little House) by Laura Ingalls Wilder
American Girl Christmas Books

And, of course:

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson
and
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis



Part XIII: Don't forget about you

Advent unfolds and you're savoring the liturgical season, teaching your children about watching, waiting, and preparing for the Lord.

But, what are you doing for yourself?

I grant that the things we do for our children are done for us, too. I benefit enormously from the books we read, the talks we have, the thought and consideration we jointly give to our preparation. But, sometimes, it isn't enough, or it isn't exactly what I need. God wants not only for my children to be prepared but for me to be ready, too.

During these weeks before Christmas, don't forget to do something for your own spiritual growth.

What do you want to do?

What do you need to do?

It doesn't have to be monumental. It just needs to draw you closer to the One who came for you, lived and died for you, and wants you to be with Him for all eternity.

What might help?

• A book you've been meaning to read
• More time with Scripture
• A single Scripture verse on which to meditate ("The Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is His name," from Luke 1:49 can lead to endless, grateful meditation.) 
• A saint's biography or a collection of quotes from the saints
• An extra five or ten minutes of prayer a day
• A promise to give up complaining
• A promise to give up something else until the joy of Christmas arrives
• Daily devotional readings for the season

Something. You know what it is for you, and I know what it is for me.

Remember, not only are we awaiting His arrival, He's waiting for us.


(The painting: The Annunciation by Henry Ossawa Tanner, 1859-1937.)



Part IX: St. Lucia Bread

The feast of St. Lucia! And ... the Lucia bread! We love this bread so much it hurts.

Do not be intimidated by this yeast bread recipe!

If I can make this bread (and make it look beautiful), anyone can. Trust me on this. This bread is easy. A little time-consuming (this from a woman who, when left on her own, would easily eat tuna out of a can rather than cooking a meal) but easy.

And, as I mentioned in this post, if you don't have time to make it on the feast day, save the recipe and make it another day. It makes a great King's Bread for the Epiphany, too.

Here's the recipe, which came to me from my great friend, Holly (and Holly originally got it from Family Fun):

Braided St. Lucia Bread

Dough:
1 1/2 cups milk
2 (1/4 oz.) pkgs. active dry yeast
1/4 cup sugar, plus 1 T. sugar
6 T. butter, cut in pieces
2 large eggs
1/4 cup orange juice
1 T. finely grated orange rind
1 t. salt
5 1/2 - 6 1/2 cups flour

Glaze and garnish:
2 1/2 cups confectioner's sugar
2-4 T. orange juice
1/3 cup dried cranberries

Warm the milk in a small saucepan, then pour 1/2 cup of it into a large bowl. Add the yeast and 1 T. of the sugar and let it sit for 5 min.

Melt the butter in the remaining milk. Add butter/milk mixture to the yeast mixture. Whisk in the eggs, juice, 1/4 cup sugar, orange rind, and salt. Stir in the flour, 1 cup at a time, until the dough can be gathered into a ball. Knead the dough on a floured surface for 10 min., adding more flour until the dough is smooth and elastic and doesn't stick to your hands. Transfer the dough to an oiled bowl, turning it once to coat it. Loosely cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it rise until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours. Punch down the dough and divide it into 3 equal parts. Roll each part into a 30-inch rope and braid the ropes together. Transfer the braid to a greased baking sheet, pinch together the ends to form a circle and let it rise until doubled in size, about 45 min. Bake at 375 degrees for 25 min., or until golden brown, then let cool on a wire rack about 30 min.

For the glaze, stir together the confectioner's sugar and orange juice until smooth. Drizzle over the bread, then garnish with cranberries. Add candles for "wreath."

Other things we've done in the past to celebrate St. Lucia:

Made wreaths for daughters, found something (anything white) for the girls to wear for a St. Lucia procession through the house, read Hanna's Christmas (see Advent books, above.)

Employed "flexible homeschooling" in an off-year (i.e., when Ramona was still keeping me up every night, for the third year in a row of her fabulous life), and didn't sweat the imperfection known as "not doing it all" and also known as "moving St. Lucia day to a Saturday or an evening."


Part X: A Prayer

Dear Lord,

When I become harried and impatient,
when I think I have too much to do
and not enough time,
when I feel burdened by obligations,
responsibilities,
activities
and busy-ness,
please, Lord,
give me the grace to remember,
that my obligations,
responsibilities,
activities
and busy-ness
spring from an abundance
of blessings.
Enormous, ineffable blessings.
Help me to see my busy days
and busy ways as the privilege
and the gift that they are.

Help me to remember, pray for,
and tangibly support
those who are not "burdened"
by too much to eat,
too much to bake,
too much to decorate,
too many books to read.

Help me, Lord, to see the Advent of Your birth
as a time to remember all of these things,
to drop to my knees thank You,
thank You, thank You,
for Your undeserved Love.


Part XI: A Week Before Christmas -- Do You Know Where Your Daughter's Tights Are?

One week until Christmas!

What do I still need to make? Buy? Wrap? Panic about??

Have I thought about those stockings that will soon hang over the fireplace, and about what will go in them?

Speaking of stockings, when Christmas Mass rolls around will everyone have tights/socks without holes, clothes that fit? Shoes that won't send them into last-minute snits?

Let's be totally honest here. The problem with writing and running a "No-Panic Advent" series is that at some point any sane, normal, writer-mom will panic.

I've done it. I panicked.

"Hi, my name is Karen, and I'm a fake."

Well, not really. Not cataclysmic meltdowns. I don't take off anyone's head (well, not completely, and I always tell them I'm sorry for being snippy), and I don't run from the house, ripping my hair out and screeching, "I thought I had more gift bags!"

But I've had my moments. Suddenly, Christmas is upon me, and there are things I've forgotten, things I fell behind on, things I didn't get around to.

One year, when I went to have coffee with two friends, I practically threw their Christmas gifts at them and said, "Now I can cross you off my list." I was kidding (I think) but there's something to that awful, "Must ... Do ... During ... Advent .... " spell we all fall under.

Sometimes things providentially pop up that help us rearrange our priorities. For example, although we always celebrate St. Lucia Day, one year friends were available at the last minute and invited our kids to stay overnight while Atticus and I ran away for a one-night vacation. We jumped on it and were thrilled we did. We had a great time, and Ramona survived her first big separation from me (although, after our reunion she sighed, "I did miss you more than I can say. And I love you dearly.") We missed doing our traditional St. Lucia activities (the bread, however, had been consumed and eaten two days prior), but when I felt a pang about that, I reminded myself that "no panic" means accepting what God allows. 

Sometimes it's a refreshing one-night vacation. Other times, it means someone throws up on Christmas Eve. (Been there more than once.) 

Whatever happens, we can rest assured that He knows about it. And He'll get us through.

So, when I start to panic, I go back to prayer. It grounds me. It reminds me that Christmas is not about shopping and doing, not about presents (with the exception of the Ultimate Gift.) Rather, it is about sin and redemption, about panic and apologies.

And, it will come, as the Grinch learned, whether it is surrounded by all our cultural, habitual trappings or not. It will come to our sloppy, imperfect selves, and when it does, I need only ask myself, "Is Jesus pleased with what I've given Him this Advent, and in this Christmas season, or is He wagging His finger at me?"

If I sense any Divine finger-wagging, then I can get a head-start on the next to-do list: spiritual resolutions for the new year.

Because He's all about beginnings, this God of ours.

Now, I'm off to cross "tights" off my shopping list.

Part XII: To Santa or Not to Santa?

There are always Santa conversations at this time of year. Don't throw anything at me.

We're all busy, so I'll make this quick. We do "No-Panic Santa."

I don't worry about it. Honestly, I don't. When Anne-with-an-e was a baby, I worried (a lot) that lying about Santa meant that one day she'd think I'd lied about God, too. When she was two years old, people asked her what Santa was going to bring, and she'd stare blankly at them, wondering who in the world they were talking about.

But then, my own childhood Santa-fun crept into our Christmas traditions. I don't even remember how. So, yes, we started "doing" Santa. (Why does this always sound slightly confessional? "Hi, I'm Karen. And I lie about Santa.")

Well, I don't out and out lie. I imply. I play a game. We get a visit from St. Nicholas on his feast day, and we have presents from him on Christmas morning, too. We wink, we leave cookies, we love the magic.

And, although I completely respect the many different ways that good Catholic parents handle this question, here's the reason I don't worry that "the Santa lie" will lead to atheism:

God is real.

My children know, see, and feel His fingerprints on their lives. We have seen God at work, and we know He isn't the stuff of toyshops and flying reindeer.

Yes, my daughters learned that Santa was just a lot of fun pretending. But, they also know that Jesus is a powerful King.

[ETA: With daughters who are now 27, 24, and 18, I can confidently say that Santa did not ruin my daughters' faith lives in any way. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything. Do whatever you want, and don't panic about it. I'm just reporting on what unfolded at our house. My girls are strong Catholics. No Santa-harm came to anyone mentioned in this blog post.]

Feelings on Santa vs. no-Santa are subjective and personal, and I would never say that my way is universally best. I understand not wanting to do it and I'm not looking to argue. I'm just saying that I no longer fret over it. And, since there's no doctrine of the Church that says we must not do Santa, I'm at peace with the magic.

And as someone who grew up with Santa, but without religion in Christmas, what was Santa for me? He was unconditional love. The times I was bad? He never left me a lump of coal. Not once. (Thanks, Mom and Dad.) Santa was magic.

God is the ultimate Unconditional Love and the True Magic. I know that somewhere, deep down, when I loved Santa I was yearning for Christ.

And He came to me. Just as Santa did. But when He came, the Magic was bigger, and powerful.

And when He came, the Magic was here to stay.



Part Who-Knows?: 
The Last-minute "To Do" List of a No-Panic Advent

Christmas Eve:

• Put youngest child/children's church bag together ... just a couple of extra things for them to do and read while you wait (and wait and wait) for Mass to begin. 

• Bake the birthday cake for Jesus:

• Make a pie

• Watch in awe as my husband works various other food magic in the kitchen

• Look forward, with increasing anticipation, to the celebration of the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me

Wishing you a blessed, happy and holy Christmas Eve.


Part Hey-We've-All-Lost-Track:  
(Written on the Sixth Day of Christmas ... in which she finally talks about the Twelve Days)


We've been "keeping Christmas" here (translate: "keeping too busy to blog") so rather than talk about it, we've been celebrating and visiting friends (with a bit of work sprinkled in, just to keep me from becoming a slug.)

But I wanted to take a moment out to share some ideas on keeping the Twelve Days.

When we first started doing some of these things, my kids noticed that much of the world was dismantling Christmas Joy just as we were picking up speed. I told them (repeatedly, because that's a mother's job), "It's a shame the whole world doesn't realize that the Christmas season is just beginning! They don't know all the fun they're missing!" The harping instruction paid off. They get it. And Ramona, who has never known any other way, is the first to correct one of us if we call Advent "the Christmas season." Which can be kind of irritating, but endearing. Mostly endearing.

Ideas:

• Keep your tree up until the Feast of the Epiphany, of course.

• Read with the kids about the twelve days.

• Keep watching Christmas shows and movies, continue reading Christmas books.

• Post prayers for the season (I put them up on the wall in our kitchen -- our page of prayer intentions for the Christmas season is accented with glitter. One can never have too much glitter).

• Send Christmas cards during the 12 days ... and don't apologize for it! It's the Christmas season! Mine went out yesterday and today. 

• Observe the Epiphany -- have a Twelfth Night party, or make Kings' bread (the St. Lucia bread works well, or perhaps make a "King Cake" -- Google it for endless possibilities. Other ideas are here at Catholic Cuisine). 

• Give Epiphany gifts (as large or small as you want them to be). 

• Have the wise men from your Nativity set travel through the house during the 12 days, making their way to the stable. 

• Make gingerbread houses. 

In keeping with the "No Panic" philosophy, don't try to incorporate twenty-seven new things into a twelve-day period. Pick one, and put the rest in the Advent file for next year.


Twelfth Night!



It's still Christmas!

Even when the Twelve Days come to a close, we're still liturgically in the Christmas season until the Baptism of the Lord. (Or is it until Candlemas? Check out this article.)


Celebrate! Rejoice! Worship!

Merry Christmas!

Poetry Friday: Advent by Thomas Merton

I've shared this one before but it's so lovely I can never resist it. 

Advent

by Thomas Merton 

Charm with your stainlessness these winter nights, 

Skies, and be perfect! Fly, vivider in the fiery dark, you quiet meteors, 

And disappear. 

You moon, be slow to go down, 

This is your full!

The four white roads make off in silence 

Towards the four parts of the starry universe. 

Time falls like manna at the corners of the wintry earth. 

We have become more humble than the rocks, 

More wakeful than the patient hills.

(Read the whole poem here.) 

~~~~~

The Poetry Friday round-up is at A Year of Reading. 

Poetry Friday: In spite of it all, thanks

Every year, as a Christmas gift for my parents and my sister, I make a calendar. It's a winsome way to plop a year's worth of family photos in their laps, neatly laid out month by month, with context. As I worked on gathering photos this week, it was clear, of course, how quickly 2020 turned on us. I had already decided I'd be including screenshots from Marco Polo, and pictures of my parents, on our socially-distanced visits, through their sliding screen door. The calendar always doubles as a memory book; I knew that. But I wasn't quite prepared for how the sifting of photos would make me feel, how it would affect me as I considered all that we've lost. 

January's photos included our New Year's celebration, a snapshot with my parents in their apartment at their retirement community, Ramona's first time to see a Broadway touring company perform Les Miserables. (She was also looking forward to Dear Evan Hansen in March, Anastasia in June...both were canceled, of course.) In February, apparently, I took very few pictures. Were we too busy? Were we already beginning to worry? It's hard to remember. 

March's photos included teddy bears in the dining room window. 

(Remember, "We're going on a bear hunt"? That's when it felt like we were all in this together, before some people decided masks were political or controlling, rather than a simple and sound way to be kind and protect one another. Sigh. Anyway....) 

By April, pictures included things like this: 

Atticus, taking part in a video message
from all the teachers (who were at home now)
to all the students at his high school
(who were, of course, also at home now.) 

A short time after that photo was taken, Atticus hurt his back.
A slipped disc left him in pain and sent him to physical therapy
for three months. Oh, 2020. 

I somehow wasn't prepared for the tears that flowed as I worked on this annual, usually-fun calendar gift. So I let myself have a cry, and then I got back to work, looking for all the things we can be grateful for. I know how "Pollyanna"-ish such things sound, but W.S. Merwin puts it in perspective for us. It's not blind or naive to acknowledge our human nature and know that we can, we must, say thanks, even in the face of — perhaps especially in the face of — mysteries and sadness that we don't understand. Not only can we and must we ... we can't seem to help it. 

And for the record, Pollyanna gets a bit of a bad rap. Her "Glad Game" was a survival mechanism, a coping technique, and the thing that transformed her own life and the lives of others. I think W.S. Merwin would tell her thanks. 

Thanks 

by W. S. Merwin 

Listen 

with the night falling we are saying thank you 

we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings 

we are running out of the glass rooms 

with our mouths full of food to look at the sky 

and say thank you 

we are standing by the water thanking it 

standing by the windows looking out 

in our directions 

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging 

after funerals we are saying thank you 

after the news of the dead 

whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you

....

(Read the rest here, at Poets.org.) 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Lovely Linda at TeacherDance has the round-up this week. 

It's going on right now: The Catholic Moms Summit is this weekend (and 25% off my book, After Miscarriage)

Join me anytime this weekend for my (prerecorded) talk:  

Coping After Miscarriage: 

Finding Healing and Hope After the Loss of Your Baby 

It's a completely free event that features 80+ women presenters over three days with pre-recorded talks as well as live "Main Events" each day. Enriching content for new moms, grandmothers, and all moms in-between.

Connect with other Catholic moms from around the world.

"All Access Pass" option that includes: lifetime access, exclusive LIVE Q&A's with presenters, and much more! (100% of the Summit proceeds go directly to supporting the presenters, ministries, and Catholic organizations during this difficult time.) 

Register for free at this link. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My publisher has generously offered a 25% discount on my book, 

After Miscarriage: A Catholic Woman's Companion to Healing and Hope. 

(You'll find it here, at Franciscan Media. 

Use the discount code CMSAfterMiscarriage.) 

This offer is open to everyone, whether you are able to attend the free summit or not. 

Thank you, Franciscan Media! 

~~~~~~~~~~

* Find my posts about miscarriage here. 

* Posts about After Miscarriage are here. 

* This post is about why families with zero, one, two, or three 

kids are still "good Catholic families." 

And, if you have a story you want to share, 

or you just want to say hello, 

please leave a comment. 

I'm always ready to pour a cup of coffee and talk. ☕