998:Jeanine's creche and her lovely remembrance of Midnight Mass. Hope to every heart!
Day 998: Friday December 9, 2022
The pageantry and drama were magical, and brought Hope to every heart as we celebrated the birth of the Savior, seen in this moment as one of us.
My Christmas Crèche is the wooden stable that I remember from my childhood, but now hosting a campesino Holy Family. The stable has somehow survived my many moves, and it reminds me each year of the Christmas traditions of my childhood…
The Christmas tree bought just days before and decorated by the family together on Christmas Eve with ornaments of old glass, icicles and lights.
Then, walking together the several blocks to attend Midnight Mass in our historic church in Columbus Ohio. It was larger than our local cathedral, knowing if you weren’t 45 minutes early you might not get a seat. Waiting in awe as the church lights were put out so that 30 choirboys with lit candles, singing Silent Night, could escort Father, carrying the Christ Child figure down the long aisles.
As he placed the infant figure in the crèche, the pipe organ and choir belted out “Birthday of the King”. Finally, the solemn High Mass and Christmas morning had arrived.
The pageantry and drama were magical, and brought Hope to every heart as we celebrated the birth of the Savior, seen in this moment as one of us.
CHRISTMAS CAROL
The kings they came from out the south
All dressed in Ermine fine
They bore Him gold and chrysoprase
And gifts of precious wine.
The shepherds came from out the north,
Their coats were brown and old
They brought Him little new-born lambs
They had not any gold.
The wise men came from out the East,
And they were wrapped in white,
The star that led them all the way
Did glorify the night.
The angels came from heaven high,
And they were clad with wings,
And, lo, they brought a joyful song
The host of heaven sings.
The kings they knocked upon the door,
The wise men entered in,
The shepherds followed after them
To hear the song begin.
The angels sang through all the night
Until the rising sun,
But little Jesus fell asleep
Before the song was done.
Sara Teasdale