Feast of St. Nicholas

Today is the feast of St. Nicholas!

The tradition of leaving one's shoes out for St. Nicholas to fill on December 6th stems from a tale about a poor man who had three daughters. Since this man could not afford dowries for his daughters, they would have had to be sold into slavery. But during the night, St. Nicholas paid the house a secret visit, and the man woke to find coins in his shoes. This happened three times, providing the man with the needed dowry for his daughters, and they were spared from slavery. (Read more about St. Nicholas here and here.)

In my family, we celebrate St. Nicholas Day by leaving shoes out the night before, and waking to see what presents St. Nicholas has left in our shoes. It is a nice, anticipatory feast during Advent, and we look forward to it every year.

Now, since I'm a little under the weather with a head cold and I can't think of words to write an actual blog post, I'm going to post a Christmas story instead, one I wrote awhile back and never subbed because, honestly, it's not really publishable. Here you go!

CHRISTMAS IS:

CHRISTMAS IN FIVE SENSES

She tasted Christmas, in the sweetness of a sugar cookie. She sneaked icing, dough, and chocolate and let it all mix on her tongue. She decided, Christmas is hot cocoa and whipped cream stirred with a peppermint stick. Christmas is the taste of cold snow on her lips.

She smelled Christmas, the butter, sugar, and flour mixed in a bowl, cookies baking in the oven, and the clear, sharp smell of snow. She said, “Christmas is the smell of the pine tree in the corner, the aroma of lighted Advent candles, and the clean snowy breeze coming through that opened window.”

She felt Christmas, the cookie dough under her fingernails. She poked her palms on prickling pine needles, and fingered the rough, glitter-crusted lining on an ornament. Christmas, she thought, is the touch of snowflakes on my face, paint on my fingers as I help paint this nativity scene on the frozen windowpane. Christmas is the warmth of fire thawing my numb fingers, the touch of the chiseled, porcelain statues of St. Joseph, Mary, the shepherds, the sheep, and donkey, in my hands.

She heard Christmas, the crackle of wrapping paper as someone wrapped a present, followed by the snick of tape cut off a spool. She heard the clink of cookie cutters clattering on the counter. Christmas is "Silent Night” playing on the radio, a timer going off on the stove, a spoon racketing off the ceramic side of a mixing bowl. Christmas is the sound of wind blowing past the window and rattling the sills, of flames crackling on the hearth. Christmas is the sound of a teakettle whistling on the stove, ready to prepare a pot of hot chocolate. Christmas is the silence in the evening when the world goes still.

She saw Christmas. There was the decorated tree standing in the corner, lights blinking on and off on pine boughs and gleaming off the silver, blue, and red ornaments. She saw the Nativity scene painted on the windows, the Advent wreath wrapped in green ivy and red beads on the table. She decided  Christmas is red and green garland strung in the entryway between the kitchen and living room, Christmas cards displayed on the decorated tree, snow piling in mounds in the yard, and snowflakes filling the sky with a kaleidoscope of diamond glints. Christmas was the snowmen standing in every yard, white lights illuminating houses on the block, Santa Claus’s ringing bells at every store.

She lived Christmas. Christmas is the glory of Midnight Mass, the candles and bells rejoicing Christ’s birth. Christmas is a drive home through a silent night, a stop at a gas station for coffee and a chocolate bar. Christmas is a couple hours’ sleep, an early morning vigil, huddled in blankets on the couch, excited gazes fixed upon a mound of presents beneath pine boughs.

Christmas is the lighted white Christ Candle, “Adeste Fidelis” sung around the Advent wreath, the Christ Child laid in His manger. Christmas is sausage and buns, orange juice, and chocolate. Christmas is a noise and fury, and joy. Christmas is digging through Christmas stockings, the excitement of opening the first present.

Christmas is the Babe in the manger.

Christmas is Christ’s birth.

God bless!

Cat

Six-Sentence Sunday

I was late, late, late again for my six sentences. One of these days I will learn to write these posts early so I can post them on the proper day!

First off, I want to share the Corpus Christi Carol by Hayley Westenra, since this is the First Sunday of Advent:

Now, here are my sentences:

1.) I could browse craft stores for hours... and I mean HOURS!

2.) St. Nicholas and St. Raphael are two of my more favourite saints - St. Raphael is the patron saint of those looking for spouses, and St. Nicholas is seriously the saint of EVERYTHING ELSE you need to pray for!

3.) We (meaning my little parish) are going to do a High Mass for Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, so we are practicing our Gregorian Chant.

4.) I have a terrible weakness for M&M's.

5.) I just found out that the movie, "Water for Elephants", was adapted from a NaNo novel. Isn't that amazin'?!!

6.) I only have 4,000 words to go before I finish my 50,000 NaNo novel. HUZZAH!

That's all, aside from a very warm Happy First Day of Advent to all of you! I love the whole Advent Season, because we can start singing the anticipatory songs of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" and "O Come, Divine Messiah" for Mass. It's a very preparatory time, very focused on sacrifice and anticipation of the birth of our dear little Jesus Christ. I adore the empty Nativity scene, which slowly becomes filled with oxen, sheep, a donkey, the shepherd, St. Joseph, our Lady, and finally the Babe Himself as the season advances. I love the Advent Wreath, with the lighting of the candles for each Sunday. I love the little crib that we set out, empty, ready to be filled with straws of sacrifice that all the little girls perform in order to present the Baby Jesus with a soft bed in which to lay. I love the Advent chains that we make, that count down the days until Christmas. I love the Advent calendars, the Christmas baking, all the decorating.

I just love Advent. For me, it's a much more joyous time than Lent. The focus of Advent is the coming of the Redeemer to earth, and He comes to us in the form of a little Baby. Who cannot love a baby? They are so soft, so dear, so precious. It is the time when the world makes ready for the Babe who came to save us from our sins.

Happy Advent! God bless!

Enjoy "Veni Emmanuel" as arranged by Anne Dudley

Since the Fish Eaters site has some of the best information on Advent Traditions, I've enclosed some links that you can follow to read more about Advent.

Fish Eaters: Advent Overview
Fish Eaters: Advent Wreath and Candles
Fish Eaters: Customs and Traditions of the Liturgical Year

Also, Amanda at Old Fashioned Girl has some good stuff to share about Advent as well. Enjoy!

Dreaming Up A Story

I'm not one to put all my faith in dreams. However, I will put my faith into the dream that inspires a new story.

I dreamed about this character, who named himself Hero. Ironically, he really did just stroll through my dream, completely fleshed out and fantastic. He's on par with Badger, my NaNo MC. He's this Slovakian boy, newly arrived in America after the death of his parents. As time goes by, it becomes apparent that Hero is not just a boy. He's the person destined to save the world.

I've written out an outline, and an idea of the story I dreamed. I just love it when the story appears in my head like this, with a character that totally excites me and is so completely real. I love it when a story materializes without a struggle. Instead of peeling the story out of my bones, it oozes out of my pores and dances in my fingertips, singing, "Write me, write me!"

How often do you dream a story? This is the second time it's happened to me. My advice, for certain sure, is this: Keep a notebook with you at all times, writers! Inspiration strikes at all times, and sometimes the best things happen when you just wake up.

Also, today is St. Nicholas day. We put out our shoes last night, and this morning St. Nicholas came and put candy and chocolate in our shoes, and one little gift. I got lovely little hair diamonds in my shoe. It was a most welcome gift. I had decided I was going to buy them for myself for Midnight Mass, but St. Nicholas anticipated me, and bought them for me instead. I'm going to wear them for Christmas.

Merry Christmas, writer friends! God bless, and Happy St. Nicholas Day!