"Hey! Unto you a child is born!"

Someone at work the other day was reminiscing about the first musical theater production our church put on: The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. Although I’ve never seen the play, I’ve read and reread the book and (apparently wrote about it in 2016).

The Herdmans are notorious for smoking cigars, setting things on fire, and having a pet that requires a “Beware of Cat” sign. As the narrator says in Barbara Robinson’s The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, “We figured they were headed straight for hell by way of the state penitentiary…until they got themselves mixed up with the church, and my mother, and our Christmas pageant.”

Lured to church by the promise of free refreshments, the six Herdman siblings show up at the first rehearsal for the Christmas pageant. Before anyone realizes it, all of the starring roles have been assigned to the various Herdmans. “And there they sat. The closest thing to criminals that we knew about, and they were going to represent the best and most beautiful.”

There’s only one problem. They’ve never heard the Christmas story before. As the pageant director patiently tells the story, the siblings interrupt asking her to explain manger, swaddling clothes, Wise Men, and myrrh.

“’And, lo, the Angel of the Lord came upon them,’ Mother went on, ‘and the glory of the Lord shone round them, and ---‘

‘Shazam!’ Gladys yelled, flinging her arms out and smacking the kid next to her.”

Eventually they make it to the dress rehearsal but fail to run through the whole play. On the night of the pageant, the whole town shows up to see just what the Herdmans are going to do. When Joseph and Mary are late for their cue, everyone figures they forgot. However, a few minutes later the disheveled couple show up in the doorway. Mary pauses to burp the baby and they make their way up the aisle. Some are appalled that Jesus gets burped, but the narrator comes to some realizations that will change her perception of the Holy Family forever.  Jesus could have been a colicky baby. After all he “was born and lived…a real person.” And Mary “is always going to look a lot like Imogene Herdman – sort of nervous and bewildered, but ready to clobber anyone who laid a hand on her baby.”

The story is not about a peaceful scene you might find on a Christmas card, but it’s “about a new baby, and his mother and father who were in a lot of trouble - no money, no place to go, no doctor, nobody they knew."

And long after your daughter has finished the book, she’ll randomly, gleefully yell out the Angel of the Lord Gladys’ immortal words,” Hey! Unto you a child is born!”

Callithumpian Activities

Dusted off this post from December 2018 because, well, keep reading. 

Pick up any women’s magazine this month and chances are there’s an article about how to handle the stress of Christmas. I always assumed this to be a modern phenomenon until I picked up The Battle for Christmas by Stephen Nissenbaum.

 In it he writes, “The Ladies’ Home Journal actually published an article in 1897 that acknowledged [women experiencing stress at Christmas] as a cultural problem.” Although I couldn’t find the actual article, I did come across this gem that reminded me the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Throughout the book, Nissenbaum also makes the case that a commercial Christmas is also not a product of modernity, but was an integral part of the transformation of Christmas from a rowdy, drunken celebration of the annual slaughter to a more domesticated affair that included women and children. As he writes, “there never was a time when Christmas existed as an unsullied domestic idyll, immune to the taint of commercialism…indeed, the domestic Christmas was itself a force in the spread of consumer capitalism.”

If you’re curious to read more about the origins of American Christmas traditions - Santa Claus, Christmas trees, and “personalized” mass-produced presents - add The Battle for Christmas to your list. You know you have one.

Tin Cups and Peppermints

 

One of my favorite posts for Christmas, from 2011.

We arrived at this chapter of Little House on the Prairie the other night. As the chapter opens, Laura and Mary have been peering anxiously out the window for days. It's December and there has been no snow in Indian Territory. No snow of course, means no Santa. On top of that, all the rain has caused the creek to rise, and so their one Christmas guest, Mr. Edwards, won't be able to make it either. Pa brings in the Christmas turkey, but even the thought of such a fat turkey for Christmas dinner isn't enough to cheer up the little girls. Ma does let them hang up stockings, and Laura thinks her mother mentions something about white sugar as she drifts off to sleep.

The next morning, Laura is startled awake as Mr. Edwards comes in with a big bundle. He tells the girls he met Santa Claus in Independence, and Santa has asked him to fetch the gifts for the girls. After he tells the tale, the girls are allowed to look in their stockings. They both receive a tin cup, peppermint candy, cakes made with white sugar (and white flour), and a new penny.

"There never had been such a Christmas," Wilder writes.

After the girls thank Mr. Edwards ("and they meant it with all their hearts"), Pa silently shakes Mr. Edwards' hand. And shakes it again. And Laura observes how all of the adults seem to be on the verge of tears.

Yes, they are.

“Never too late for an accounting"

When I was around 8, we went to see Mickey’s Christmas Carol at the movie theater. I'll never forget the chills I got watching the graveyard scene. Soon after, I would see the George C. Scott version on TV and marvel at the largesse of Christmas Present. With my kids, I would delight at the Muppet’s take. To this day, they still giggle at the memory of the scene when Rizzo kisses Gonzo.  

Of course, the classic story started as a book, which I first read in middle school and soon became an annual read. After discovering Samantha Silva’s novel Mr. Dickens and His Carol in 2018, I was in the mood for another modern adaptation of the familiar tale. It’s frightening how well Marley by Jon Clinch suits Christmas 2020.

As the title reveals, the action centers, not on Ebenezer Scrooge, but on his business partner Jacob Marley. Rather than appear as a ghost, Marley is all flesh and blood, motivated by greed and desire. Master of disguise and charm, he dupes everyone around him for the sake of building up his fortunes. The most nefarious part of the story is that Marley and Scrooge have built up their business by engaging in the transport of enslaved Africans to the Americas. Without giving too much away, Marley’s  penchant for the “knocking-shop” ends up being his demise, but not until after he literally gets away with murder.

If you need lighthearted fare this season, leave this one on the shelf. But if you want to dive into a world that may be even darker than our own, Marley deserves a chance.  Certainly, you’ll never see Marley’s chains the same way again.

The Story of Christmas

I've dusted off this post from four years ago as a reminder of the importance of tradition. This year, due to various work and school obligations, it feels like we've hardly sat down to dinner together as a family. That means we've lost and picked up the thread of the Nativity story we usually read with grace. And rather than the kids vying to light and blow out the candles, they do so with a sense of "meh."So here's to reclaiming traditions....or perhaps starting new ones. 

 My daughter had to give a presentation at school about her family’s holiday traditions. She chose to talk about Advent. When she had finished speaking, a boy in her class raised his hand and asked, “Do you still celebrate Christmas?”

 Actually, this year we may be just celebrating Christmas since, in the move, I’ve managed to misplace our Advent wreath, children’s nativity set, and Advent calendar, a book called The Story of Christmas. 

 Those objects are replaceable of course, but one of the nice things about traditions is unpacking the ones you have used year after year. The corners may be dog eared, the wreath may be splattered with pink and purple wax, and the donkey may be missing a tail, but that is part of what makes them yours.

 Whether you are starting a new tradition or supplementing an old, perhaps one of these books will add to your Advent season:

 The Light of theWorld: Daily Meditations for Advent and Christmas by Phyllis Zagano

 Advent of the Heart: SeasonalSermons and Prison Writings - 1941-1944 by Alfred Delp

 A Gift for the Christ Child: A Christmas Folktale by Anne Wilson and Linda Schlafer

 Manger edited by Lee Bennett Hopkins

 Light Upon Light: ALiterary Guide to Prayer for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany compiled by Sarah Arthur

Who Built the Stable?: A Nativity Poem by Ashley Bryan

Pretty Paper by Willie Nelson and David Ritz

Callithumpian Activities

Pick up any women’s magazine this month and chances are there’s an article about how to handle the stress of Christmas. I always assumed this to be a modern phenomenon until I picked up The Battle for Christmas by Stephen Nissenbaum.

In it he writes, “The Ladies’ Home Journal actually published an article in 1897 that acknowledged [women experiencing stress at Christmas] as a cultural problem.” Although I couldn’t find the actual article, I did come across this gem from 1898 that reminded me the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Throughout the book, Nissenbaum also makes the case that a commercial Christmas is also not a product of modernity, but was an integral part of the transformation of Christmas from a rowdy, drunken celebration of the annual slaughter to a more domesticated affair that included women and children. As he writes, “there never was a time when Christmas existed as an unsullied domestic idyll, immune to the taint of commercialism…indeed, the domestic Christmas was itself a force in the spread of consumer capitalism.”

If you’re curious to read more about the origins of American Christmas traditions - Santa Claus, Christmas trees, and “personalized” mass-produced presents - add The Battle for Christmas to your list. You know you have one.

Oh my, it’s fruitcake weather!

I wrote this post back in December of 2008. It’s still one of my favorite posts (and stories). 

With her Texas twang, my aunt does a perfect rendition of that line from Truman Capote's “A Christmas Memory.” After first watching the movie version at her house, several years later I encountered the audio version on a long car ride to Arkansas. It wasn’t until I bought a copy of Breakfast at Tiffany’s at a church book sale that I read the print version. It’s always with a sense of delight tempered with melancholy that I turn to the story, sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas, to follow Buddy and his friend as they buy whiskey from Mr. Ha Ha Jones, send fruitcakes to the White House, and craft homemade kites for Christmas morning.

Every year different details in the story stand out. The year my mom made homemade fruitcake, I could taste the citron as I read their recipe. Last year, when my daughter was infatuated with dolls, I could picture exactly the wicker buggy with wobbly wheels they use to haul pecans. This year, I noticed the prices of things in the Depression era story – two dollars for a quart of whiskey, fifty cents for a Christmas tree, a dime for a picture show. 

(As I reread this in 2018, my current pursuit of a theology degree drew my eye to Miss Sook’s reflections on seeing the Lord at the end of her life. As she says, “I’ll wager it never happens. I’ll wager at the very end a body realizes the Lord has already shown Himself. That things as they are…just what they’ve always seen, was seeing Him.”)

This story sates that yen you had for something rich and sweet and Christmasy, and like fruitcake, endures December after December. So after you've set up the Advent wreath, made the gingerbread cookies, and assembled some 15-odd nativity sets, it’s time to curl up with a hot mug of cider and “A Christmas Memory.”

Seven Books a Reading

Christmas Bundle (Hannah Swensen Mysteries) by Joanne Fluke  

Set in small town Minnesota, these mystery books may be formulaic, but always comforting – kinda like the sugar cookies you bake each December.  

The Friday Night Knitting Club Series by Kate Jacobs

Single mom Georgia Walker runs a yarn shop in Manhattan. The group that gathers to meet every Friday knits their stories together along with their latest projects. Georgia’s daughter Dakota becomes entwined in the lives of the knitters as her own begins to unravel as the books progress.

The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry

Credit card maxed out with holiday spending? Can’t find work as an elf? This book is free. You may have been forced-read this story in high school, but it takes on new meaning whether reading it again as a newlywed or someone who’s been in a relationship for years.

Holidays on Ice by David Sedaris

“But instead I am applying for a job as an elf. Even worse than applying is the very real possibility that I will not be hired, that I couldn't even find work as an elf. That's when you know you're a failure.” 

The Invisible Bridge by Julie Orringer

Arriving in Paris in 1937, Andras is ready to begin his studies in architecture. However, he is blissfully unaware that his world is about to crumble. Before that, the matchmaking plan to set him up with the daughter of a family friend is foiled when he falls for the mother. Their lighthearted moments on the ice rinks of Paris soon become a distant memory as the persecution begins in earnest.   

The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley

I received this book for Christmas year one year and spent the rest of the holiday break feverishly binge-reading this tale of Camelot told by the women. 

Winter Street Series by Elin Hilderbrand

Always a reliable beach read, Elin Hilderbrand usually sets her stories of romance and friendship on Nantucket Island at the peak of summer tourist season. With her Winter Street series (Winter Street, Stroll, Storms, Solstice), she follows the Quinn family over four consecutive Christmases.