Auld Lang Syne

"Auld Lang Syne" is a song that is traditional to the New Year and has been sung and toasted at midnight on New Year's Eve for generations. The song began as a poem written in 1778 by Robert Burns, which he set to folk melody.

The message of "Auld Lang Syne" is that we should not forget our friends from times past, and the song sings of two old friends who haven't seen each other for a while, meet and share a reminiscing of past memories.

To me, the song signifies letting go of the last year and what it represented. Often, good friends or family move away, which leaves us with a sense of a loss and void that is not easy to fill. Out with the old and in with the new can sometimes be tough. New situations are sometimes faced with ambiguous feelings, with more than a little anxiety lagging behind. Healing is not easy.

The truth is that healing is a powerful choice, and the commitment to heal is the first step in recovery and wellness. As the year 2025 ends and the New Year 2026 begins, let us hope all our endings lead us to a healthier, happier, and a blessed future.

Jesus and His Disicples

Jesus took his disciples up on the mountain and gathered them around him. And he taught them, saying “Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are the meek. Blessed are those who are persecuted. Blessed are those who suffer. When these things happen, rejoice, for your reward will be great in heaven.”

And Simon Peter said, “Do we have to write this down?”
And Phillip said “Is this going to be on the test?”
And John said, “Would you repeat that, slower?”
And Andrew said, “John the Baptist’s disciples don’t have to learn this stuff.”
And Matthew said, “Huh?”
And Judas said, “What’s this got to do with real life?”

And then one of the Pharisees said, an expert in law, said, “I don’t see any of this in your syllabus. Do you have a lesson plan? Where’s the student guide? Will there be a follow-up assignment?”

And Thomas, who had missed the sermon, came to Jesus privately and said, “Did we do anything important today?”

And Jesus wept.

The Tiger and the Fox

A fox who lived in the deep forest of long ago had lost its front legs. No one knew how: perhaps escaping from a trap. A man who lived on the edge of the forest, seeing the fox from time to time, wondered how in the world it managed to get its food. One day when the fox was not far from him he had to hide himself quickly because a tiger was approaching. The tiger had fresh game in its claws. Lying down on the ground, it ate its fill, leaving the rest for the fox.

Again the next day the great Provider of this world sent provisions to the fox by this same tiger. The man began to think: "If this fox is taken care of in this mysterious way, its food sent by some unseen Higher Power, why don't I just rest in a corner and have my daily meal provided for me?"

Because he had a lot of faith, he let the days pass, waiting for food. Nothing happened. He just went on losing weight and strength until he was nearly a skeleton. Close to losing consciousness, he heard a Voice which said: "O you, who have mistaken the way, see now the Truth! You should have followed the example of that tiger instead of imitating the disabled fox."

~ Anthony De Mello, SJ

Saying Thank You

Saying thank you from the heart makes us feel full. Perhaps we don't really know we have something until we express our thanks for it.

There are different levels of gratitude. There is the polite, automatic response when someone opens a door for us or the bank teller tells us to have a nice day. Simple, almost perfunctory, these acts of courtesy nevertheless add an element of grace to our daily transactions.

On a more personal level, saying thank you often and sincerely to those we love keeps us from taking each other for granted. We all like to feel appreciated - how many relationships dry up because the people involved don't realize what they have?

Then there is the gratitude we feel toward the God of our understanding, the source of all the blessings we enjoy but do not create for ourselves. This thankfulness can be a part of every breath we take. As often as we remember the many gifts of every day, our emptiness is filled.

Today, I will replenish my supply of gratitude.

Praying to See God's Glory

 Familiarity breeds contempt. It also blocks the mystery of Christmas by breeding a view of the life that cannot see divinity within humanity. 

All of us are hopelessly prone to see most everything in an over-familiar way, namely, in a way that sees little or nothing of the deep richness and divinity that is shimmering everywhere under the surface. G.K. Chesterton, reflecting on this, once declared that one of the deep secrets of life is to learn to look at things familiar until they look unfamiliar again. 

We are all challenged to learn the secret of seeing the extraordinary inside of the ordinary, of seeing divinity shimmering inside of humanity, and of seeing haloes around familiar faces. 

Thomas Merton shares how he once had a quasi-mystical experience of this in the most ordinary of circumstances. He had been living in a Trappist monastery outside of Louisville, Kentucky, for nearly 20 years and one day needed to go into Louisville for a medical appointment. He was standing at the intersection of Fourth and Walnut, when suddenly the ordinary changed into the extraordinary. 

Everyone around him began to shimmer with a deep, divine radiance. They were all walking around, he wrote, “shining like the sun.” And he adds: “Then it was as if I suddenly saw the secret beauty of their hearts, the depths of their hearts where neither sin nor desire nor self-knowledge can reach, the core of their reality, the person that each one is in God’s eyes. If only they could all see themselves as they really are. If only we could see each other that way all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed…I suppose the big problem would be that we would fall down and worship each other.” 

This kind of vision, seeing the world as transfigured with haloes around familiar faces, is ultimately the meaning of Christmas, the meaning of the incarnation, and the mystery of God walking around in human flesh. Christmas is not so much a celebration of Jesus’ birthday as it is a celebration of the continued birth of God into human flesh, the continuation of the divine making itself manifest in the ordinary; God, a helpless baby in a barn​.

(Ron Rolheiser)

Feast of the Holy Family

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Family.   Pope Leo XIII established this Feast to promote the sacredness of family life and to present the Holy Family as the model for all Christian Families.  Many people struggle with the notion that all families should model themselves on the Holy Family.  After all, Angles communicated with Joseph quite a lot, Mary, our Blessed Mother was conceived without sin and Jesus is the Son of God.  No other family on earth has members who achieve this level of perfection. 

We can, however, strive for holiness within our families.  The key to achieving the ideal modeled by the Holy Family is found in our second reading from Colossians 3:12–21.  In this reading St. Paul provides the Christian community of Colossae in Asia Minor with some guidelines for living the ideal Christian life in the world:  “Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, heartfelt compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another, if one has a grievance against another; as the Lord has forgiven you, so must you also do. And over all these put on love, that is, the bond of perfection. And let the peace of Christ control your hearts, the peace into which you were also called in one body.” 

If each one of us follows St. Paul’s guidelines for Christian living, and applies them to our own lives and to our families, then we might come close to achieving the holiness modeled by the Holy Family.  St. Paul certainly gives us great material for making our New Year’s resolutions.  Happy New Year!   

God our Father,
we give you all thanks and praise
that you chose for your Son a human family.
Through the prayers and example
of Mary and Joseph,
may we too learn
to make room for Jesus in our lives,
that he may grow up in us day after day
and make us more like him.

Teach us to rely on your word,
that in our trials as in our joys
we may be clothed in gentleness and patience
and united in love.
We ask this in the name of Jesus the Lord.

Amen

 

 

Merry Christmas!

\

If You Look For Me At Christmas

If you look for me at Christmas,

you won't need a special star -

I'm no longer just in Bethlehem,

I'm right there where you are.

You may not be aware of Me

Amid the celebrations -

You'll have to look beyond the stores

and all the decorations.

But if you take a moment

from your list of things to do

And listen to your heart, you'll find

I'm waiting there for you.

You're the one I want to be with,

you're the reason that I came,

And you'll find Me in the stillness

as I'm whispering your name.

Love,

Jesus

Soldier's Poem

Twas the night before Christmas,

He lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of
Plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney
With presents to give,
And to see just who
In this home did live.

I looked all about,
A strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.

No stocking by mantle,
Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures
Of far distant lands.

With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought
Came through my mind.

For this house was different,
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping,
Silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor
In this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle,
The room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured
A United States soldier.

Was this the hero
Of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?

I realized the families
That I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers
Who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would celebrate
A bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom
Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers,
Like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder
How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas eve
In a land far from home.

The very thought
Brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
And started to cry.

The soldier awakened
and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry,
This life is my choice;

I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more,
My life is my god,
My country, my corps."

The soldier rolled over
And drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still
And we both shivered
From the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave
On that cold, dark, night,
This guardian of honor
So willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "carry on Santa,
It's Christmas day, all is secure."

One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend,
And to all a good night."

The "W" in Christmas

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations - extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six year old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant."

I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation.

All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise. So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats.

As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing "Christmas Love" I was slightly taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads.

Those in the front row- center stage - held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love."

The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down - totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W".

The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W".

Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised and we all saw it together.

A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen.

In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities.

For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear:

"C H R I S T W A S L O V E"

And, I believe, He still is.

Amazed in His presence... .humbled by His love.

~ Author Unknown

Christmas Scout

In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-yr.-old Frank Wilson was not happy. It was true, he had received all the presents he wanted, and he enjoyed the traditional Christmas Eve reunions with relatives for the purpose of exchanging gifts and good wishes but Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had together.

He said good-bye to this relatives, and explained to his parents that he was leaving a little early to see a friend, and from there he could walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It was his FAVORITE gift. He placed the other presents on his new sled, then headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy Scout troop. Frank always felt understood by him.

Tho’ rich in wisdom, his leader lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived. His patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family. To Frank’s disappointment, his friend was not home.

As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, thru one front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with limp stockings hanging over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated nearby….weeping.

The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with presents. A sudden thought struck Frank–he had not done his “good deed” for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door. “Yes?” the sad voice of a woman asked. Seeing his sled full of gifts, and assuming he was making a collection, she said, “I have no food or gifts for you. I have nothing for my own children.”

“That’s not why I am here, ” Frank replied. “Please choose whatever presents you would like for your children from the sled.”

“Why, God bless you!” the amazed woman answered gratefully. She selected some candies, a game, a toy airplane and a puzzle. When she took the Scout flashlight, Frank almost protested. Finally, the stockings were full.

“Won’t you tell me your name?” she asked, as Frank was leaving.

“Just call me the Christmas Scout,” he replied.

The visit left Frank touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in his heart. He understood that his sorrow wasn’t the only sorrow in the world.

Before he left the Flats, he had given away the rest of his gifts. His plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy. Now, Frank trudged toward home, cold and uneasy. How could he explain to his parents that he had given his presents away?

“Where are your presents, son? asked his father as Frank entered the house. “I gave them away,” he answered in a small voice.

“The airplane from Aunt Susan? Your new coat from Grandma? Your flashlight?? We tho’t you were happy with your gifts.”

“I was very happy,” Frank said quietly.

“But, Frank, how could you be so impulsive?” his mother asked. “How will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much love shopping for you?”

His father was firm. “You made your choice, Frank. We cannot afford any more presents.”

With his brother gone, and his family disappointed in him, Frank suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his generosity, for he knew that a good deed always should be its own reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back. However, he wondered if he would ever again recapture joy in his life. He thought he had this evening, but it had been fleeting. He thought of his brother, and sobbed himself to sleep.

The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke:

“Merry Christmas, everyone! The nicest Christmas story we have this morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled this morning left at his house by an anonymous teenage boy. Another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts from a teenage lad who simply called himself the ‘Christmas Scout’."

No one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself.

Frank felt his father’s arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his mother smiling thru her tears.

“Why didn’t you tell us, son? We didn’t understand. We are so proud of you.”

The carols came over the air again, filling the room with music – "Praises sing to God the King, and peace on Earth goodwill to men.”

Deuteronomy 15:7-8 tells us: “If there are poor among you in one of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be selfish or greedy toward them. But give freely to them, and freely lend them whatever they need.”

LET US FOLLOW FRANK’S EXAMPLE.

~ by Sam Bogan

The Tablecloth

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc. and on Dec 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.

On Dec 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm - hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home.

On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church. By this time it had started to snow.

An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.

The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again. The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church.

The pastor insisted on driving her home, that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job. What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn’t leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike? He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman’s apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

True Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid Who says God does not work in mysterious ways.

4th Sunday of Advent

Today we celebrate the Fourth Sunday of Advent.  Christmas is four days away.  In the three weeks leading up to today many of us have worked hard to prepare for Christmas.  The cards are sent.  The decorations are up.  Hopefully, most of the shopping is finished.  The gifts are wrapped and under the tree or stored in a safe place.  Now it's time to stop and reflect on what we are celebrating.  We are celebrating God's incredible gift to us - the gift of His son, Jesus who came to "save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1: 21).  We are celebrating the birth of Emmanuel - God is with us. 

The Gospel for today and for the Christmas Vigil Mass, Matthew 1: 18-24, focuses our attention on St. Joseph.  The birth of Jesus posed a serious problem for Joseph.  Although he was betrothed to Mary, they were not formally living together.  They had a contract to marry.  Joseph must have felt very hurt and betrayed when he discovered that Mary was pregnant with a child that was not his.  He could have divorced her, an act that would destroy her life and possibly the life of the child.  But he didn't.  Joseph listened to God and did what was just and honorable.  He took Mary and the baby Jesus into his home and into his heart.  Joseph trusted God and God entrusted His son to Joseph. 

Joseph is our very human model of faith, compassion and mercy.  He also is the perfect example of a strong and caring parent.  Joseph protected Jesus from the murderous wrath of Herod.  He provided a safe and secure home in which Jesus could grow and develop.  Most importantly, Joseph was responsive to the Spirit of God.  In these last few days before Christmas, take some time to reflect on St. Joseph.  And remember that all of us are called to be like Joseph.  We are called to make room for Jesus in our hearts, in our spirits, in our homes and in our community.  We are called to welcome Emmanuel; God is with us right here in Peachtree City. 

Eternal God,
in the psalms of David,
in the words of the prophets,
in the dream of Joseph
your promise is spoken.
At last, in the womb of the Virgin Mary,
your Word takes flesh.
Teach us to welcome Jesus, the promised Emmanuel,
and to preach the good news of his coming,
that every age may know him
as the source of redemption and grace.
Grant this through your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God for ever and ever.

AMEN.

I Felt it Melt my Heart

Snowflakes softly falling,

Upon your window they play.
Your blankets snug around you,
Into sleep you drift away.

I bend to gently kiss you,
when I see that on the floor.
there's a letter, neatly written.
I wonder who it's for.

I quietly unfold it,
making sure you're still asleep.
It's a Christmas list for Santa
one my heart will always keep.

It started just as always,
with the toys seen on TV.
A new watch for your father
and a winter coat for me.

But as my eyes read on,
I could see that deep inside.
There were many things you wished for,
that your loving heart would hide.

You asked if your friend Molly,
could have another Dad;
It seems her father hits her,
and it makes you very sad.

Then you asked dear Santa,
if the neighbors down the street
Could find a job, that he might have
some food, and clothes, and heat.

You saw a family on the news
whose house had blown away,
"Dear Santa, send them just one thing,
a place where they can stay."

"And Santa, those four cookies that,
I left you for a treat.
Could you take them to the children
who have nothing else to eat?"

"Do you know that little bear I have,
the one I love so dear?
I'm leaving it for you to take,
to Africa this year".

"And as you fly your reindeer,
on this night of Jesus' birth.
Could your magic bring to everyone,
goodwill and peace on earth".

"There's one last thing before you go,
so grateful I would be.
If you'd smile at Baby Jesus,
in the manger by our tree."

I pulled the letter close to me,
I felt it melt my heart.
Those tiny hands had written,
what no other could impart.

"And a little child shall lead them,"
was whispered in my ear.
As I watched you sleep on Christmas Eve
while Santa Claus was here.

May You be "Christmas" Every Time

Brown Bag Christmas

When I asked our newlywed Sunday School class to share a favorite Christmas story, Carrie Fuller said, "Our family has one we call the 'Brown Bag Christmas.'" When she finished, I had to hear more. Two days later, I called a member of her family for more details.

It was the early 1930s during the Dust Bowl days of Kansas, in the heart of the Depression. The Canaday family---Mom, Dad, 7 children---were having a tough time existing, so there would be no luxuries at Christmas that year. 

 Mom told the children to go outside and find a Christmas tree and decorate it. After a lengthy search, they returned with a dead branch, the only thing they had been able to find. They stood it up in a bucket of sand and decorated it with pieces of paper tied with string. Little Judy, almost four, did not know how a Christmas tree was supposed to look, but somehow

she knew it was not like that!

As Christmas approached, the Canaday children, like children everywhere, pestered Mom and Dad about what presents they might get under their "tree." Dad pointed out that the pantry was bare, that they did not have enough to live on, and there certainly would be no money for gifts. But Mom was a woman of faith and told her children, "Say your prayers. Ask God to send us what He wants us to have."

Dad said, "Now, Mother, don't be getting the children's hopes up. You're just setting them up for a disappointment."

Mom said, "Pray, children. Tell Jesus." And pray they did.

On Christmas Eve, the children watched out the window for visitors, but no one came. "Blow out the lamp and go to bed", Dad said. "Nobody is going to come. No one even knows we're out here."

The children turned out the lamp and got in bed, but they were too excited to sleep. Was this not Christmas? Had they not asked God to send them the presents He wanted them to have? Did Mom not say God answers prayer?

Late that night, when one of the children spotted headlights coming down the dirt road, everyone jumped out of bed and ran to the window. The commotion woke up Mom and Dad. "Don't get excited, children," Dad said. "They're probably not coming here. It's just someone who got lost." The children kept hoping and the car kept coming. Then, Dad lit a lamp. They all wanted to rush to the door at the same time, but Mr. Canaday said, "Stay back. I'll go."

Someone got out of the car and called, "I was wondering if someone here can help me unload these bags." The children dashed out the door to lend a hand.

Mom said to her youngest, "Stay here, Judy, and help Mom open the bags and put up the gifts."

A deacon from the church in town had gone to bed that Christmas Eve, and lay there tossing and turning, unable to get the Canaday family off his mind. Later, he said, "I didn't know what kind of shape you folks were in, but I knew you had all those kids." He had gotten up and dressed and went around town, rousing people from their sleep to ask for a contribution for the Canaday family. He filled his car with bags of groceries, canned goods, toys, and clothing. Little Judy got a rag doll which remained her favorite for years.

With so much food, Dad wanted to have a Christmas feast, to spread it all out and eat as they had never eaten before. Mom, ever the caretaker, said, "No, we need to make this last." And it did last, for weeks.

The next Sunday, Mrs. Canaday stood in church and told what the members---and one deacon in particular ---had done for her family. There was not a dry eye in the house.

Years later, the oldest sister Eva wrote up this story about her family for a school project. Eva said, "We were so thrilled by all the wonderful things in the bags, for a while; we lost sight of the most special gift. The best gift that Christmas was not in brown bags at all. It was Mom's faith, as she taught her children to bring their needs to Jesus and trust Him to meet them. And a Dad's love that wanted only to protect his children from hurt and disappointment."

When Carrie finished telling her story, she added, "Little Judy is my wonderful grandmother." Today, Judy Canaday Dryden lives in Sanger, Texas. As she relived this event from seventy years ago over the phone, one could hear the tear in her voice and feel her pride in being the recipient of

such a precious heritage from her mother and father.

At Christmas, we celebrate praying mothers and caring fathers and believing children. We give thanks for sensitive deacons and generous friends and sleepless nights. And we praise God for the hard times that teach unforgettable lessons, stories of faithfulness that get told and retold through the years inspiring each new generation to place their faith in a loving Savior.

~ Author Unknown

Third Sunday of Advent

The 3^rd Sunday of Advent traditionally is known as Gaudete Sunday.  The term Gaudete means rejoice in Latin, a word that appears in the entrance antiphon of Masses held today: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice! The Lord is near.  The rose colored Advent candle we light reminds us that our time of waiting is almost over – there are only nine days left in our Advent Pilgrimage. 

REJOICE!  Isaiah tells us because “those whom the LORD has ransomed will return and enter Zion singing, crowned with everlasting joy” (Is. 35:10). REJOICE!  Jesus tells John the Baptist’s disciples because “the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them” (Matt.11:5).  REJOICE!  St. James tells the waiting Christians “because the coming of the Lord is at hand” (James 5: 8).  REJOICE!  Because Jesus Christ tells us that although “among those born of women, there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matt.11: 11).

REJOICE, because we are the people who inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.  We are greater than John the Baptist because we have seen the full revelation of God’s love through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  John the Baptist came to direct us to a greatness he would never experience.  Jesus, the Messiah, came to save us. REJOICE!  

Let us pray

that God will fill us with joy at the coming of Christ.

Lord God,

may we, your people,

who look forward to the birthday of Christ

experience the joy of salvation

and celebrate that feast with love and thanksgiving.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, for ever and ever.

Amen

The Farmer and Geese

There was once a man who didn't believe in God and didn't hesitate to let others know how he felt about religion and religious holidays, like Christmas. His wife did believe and raised their children to have faith in God and Jesus.

One snowy Christmas Eve, his wife was taking their children to a Christmas Eve service in the farm community in which they lived. She asked her husband to come, but he refused as usual, .. "The Christmas story is nonsense!" he exclaimed. "Why would God lower Himself to come to Earth as a man? That's ridiculous!" She and the children went, and he stayed home.

That night the wind began to blow and the snow turned into a blizzard. As the man looked out the window, all he could see was a blinding snowstorm. He sat down before the fire-place to relax . Suddenly there was a loud thump. Something had hit the window. Then a second thump. He looked out, but couldn't see more than a few feet because of the blinding snow.

When the storm let up a little, he ventured out to see what could have been beating on his window. In the field near the house was a flock of wild geese. Apparently they were flying south when they were caught in the blizzard and couldn't go on. They were lost and stranded on his farm, without food or shelter. 

Flapping their wings, they aimlessly flew around the field in low circles. Some had apparently flown into his window. The man felt concern for the geese and wanted to help them. The barn would be a great place for them to stay, he thought. It was warm and safe. They would be saved if they spent the night there waiting out the storm. He opened the barn doors wide. Then he watched and waited, hoping they would notice the open barn and enter. But the geese just fluttered around aimlessly and didn't seem to notice the barn or realize what it could mean for them. The man tried to get their attention, but that just seemed to scare them and they moved further away. He went into the house and brought out some bread, broke it up, and made a breadcrumb trail leading to the barn. They still didn't catch on.

Now he was getting frustrated. He got behind them and tried to shoo them toward the barn, but they only became frightened and scattered in every direction except toward the barn. Nothing he did could get them to go into the barn where they would be safe. "Why don't they follow me?" he puzzled. "Can't they see this is the only place where they can survive?" He thought for a moment and realized that they just wouldn't follow a human. "If only I were a goose, then I could save them," he said out loud.

Suddenly he had an idea. He went into the barn, got one of his own geese, and carried it in his arms as he circled around behind the flock of wild geese. When he released his goose, it flew through the flock and straight into the safety of the barn. One by one the other geese followed it to safety.

He stood silently for a moment as the words he had spoken a few minutes earlier replayed in his mind: "If only I were a goose, then I could save them!" Then he thought about what he had said to his wife. Suddenly it all made sense. That is what God had done. We were like the geese--blind, lost, perishing. God had His Son become like us so He could show us the way and save us. That was the meaning of Christmas, he realized. As the winds and blinding snow died down, his soul became quiet. Suddenly he understood what Christmas was all about, why Christ had come. Years of doubt and disbelief vanished like the passing storm. He fell to his knees in the snow, and prayed his first real prayer: "Thank You, Lord, for coming in human form to get me out of this world and leading me to a better one. Lead me to the safety of Your Father's arms."

~ Author Unknown

The Gifts I'd Leave

 

Mary's Dream

I had a dream, Joseph. I don't understand it.

Not really, but I think it was about a birthday celebration for our Son. I think that was what it was all about. The people had been preparing for it for about six weeks. They had decorated the house and bought new clothes. They'd gone shopping many times and bought elaborate gifts. It was peculiar, though, because the presents weren't for our Son. They wrapped them in beautiful paper and tied them with lovely bows and stacked them under a tree.

Yes, a tree, Joseph, right in their house. They'd decorated the tree also. The branches were full of glowing balls and sparkling ornaments. There was a figure on top of the tree. It looked like an angel might look.

Oh, it was beautiful. Everyone was laughing and happy. They were all excited about the gifts. They gave the gifts to each other, Joseph, not to our Son. I don't think they even knew Him. They never mentioned His name.

Doesn't it seem odd for people to go to all that trouble to celebrate someone's birthday if they don't know Him?

I had the strangest feeling that if our Son had gone to this celebration, He would have been intruding.

Everything was so beautiful, Joseph, and everyone so full of cheer, but it made me want to cry. How sad for Jesus not to be wanted at His own birthday celebration.

I'm glad it was only a dream. How terrible, Joseph, if it had been real.

Author Unknown

Millions

Contributions

We need to take note, today, of all the opportunities we have to offer a helping hand to another person. We can notice too the many times a friend, or even a stranger, reaches out to us in a helpful way. The opportunities to contribute to life's flow are unending.

Our own vibrancy comes from involvement with others, from contributing our talents, our hearts, to one another's daily travels. The program helps us to know that God lives in us, among us. When we close ourselves off from our friends, our fellow travelers, we block God's path to us and through us.

To live means sharing one another's space, dreams, sorrows; contributing our ears to hear, our eyes to see, our arms to hold, our hearts to love. When we close ourselves off from each other, we have destroyed the vital contribution we each need to make and to receive in order to nurture life.

We each need only what the other can give. Each person we meet today needs our special contribution.

What a wonderful collection of invitations awaits me today!

2nd Sunday of Advent

In our Gospel this Sunday, Matthew 3:1–12, John the Baptist appears in the desert of Judea crying out, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”  John’s message is harsh for those who seek the baptism of repentance with the wrong attitude or for the wrong reason.  Calling the Sadducees and Pharisees a “brood of vipers,” John reminds them and us that that true repentance means a change of life and a change of behavior.  There is no repentance without change. The Sadducees and Pharisees presented themselves to John for baptism without intending to change thus incurring his wrath and the threat of severe judgment when the Messiah arrives.

Each one of us is called to repentance.  We all have a responsibility to examine our lives, identify what needs to change, and then do something about it.  The message of John the Baptist and the message of Jesus Christ is to repent because the Kingdom of Heaven is “at hand.”  The Kingdom of Heaven is now.  We cannot enter the Kingdom carrying the baggage of sin.  Our Advent Pilgrimage is the perfect opportunity to acknowledge the changes we need to make in our lives, to address them through the Sacrament of Reconciliation and to prepare our hearts for the coming of Jesus and the Kingdom. 

Stir up within us,

O God of peace and mercy,

a sincere desire for repentance,

that, baptized with the Holy Spirit

and enkindled by the fire of your love,

we may bring to every situation

the justice, gentleness and peace

that the incarnation of your Word

has caused to sprout and blossom upon the earth.

Grant this through your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ,

who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,

God for ever and ever.

AMEN.

An Old Woman of the Roads

O, To have a little house!

To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods upon the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!

To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!

I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!

I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph!

Och! but I'm weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there's never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!

And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house—a house of my own—
Out of the wind's and the rain's way.

~ Padraic Colum

Give from the Heart

Newscaster Paul Harvey once told about a woman who called the Butterball Turkey Company and said that she had a turkey that had been in her freezer for 23 years. She asked if it was still any good. She was told that if her freezer was at least zero degrees Fahrenheit, then the turkey was probably safe enough to eat. But they wouldn’t recommend that she eat it. The flavor would have deteriorated considerably. She said, “That’s what we thought. I guess we’ll just give it to the church.”

I suppose there are many reasons we choose to give. But people who enjoy sharing with others the most do not share simply because they have a need to get rid of something. Those who find the greatest joy from giving have learned to give from a deeper place; they give from their hearts.

Santa Claus is becoming a universal symbol of giving. Millions of children write letters to Santa each year in hopes that they won’t be forgotten during his annual giving spree. Did you know that the US Post Office actually found ways to answer those letters to Santa Claus? They used to just stick them in the so-called dead letter box. But now some cities have programs that allow people to sort through these hand-written pleas, hopes and wishes and become “Santas” to others in need. They choose a letter and respond however they can. Most anyone can play Santa.

One letter that might have been discarded a few years ago, but was picked up by a volunteer Santa Claus, came from a boy named Donny. He wrote that he wanted a bike for Christmas and “some food and what I really need is love.”

Another volunteer Santa latched onto a letter from a young mother who wrote, “I lost my job and I cannot afford to give my two children the things they need for the winter months.” That generous spirit helped with some necessities for the children.

“I like to go to their home on Christmas Eve,” one joyful Santa said. One year he bought presents for four children and a ham for their mother. Then he added this poignant observation: “The feeling you get is just incredible.”

I admit it – I don't always get that feeling when I give. But then I don't always give out of untainted motivations. Sometimes I give from other places. Sometimes I give out of social obligation or out of guilt. Or I give with an expectation for receiving back. But I give best when I give from that deeper place; when I give simply, freely and generously, and sometimes for no particular reason. I give best when I give from my heart.

And isn't it true? Opportunities to give from the heart are not limited to a particular holiday season or cultural tradition. Whether we give food, money, an hour of time or a hug, we can give it sincerely and joyously.

But let me offer a word of caution. If you choose to give from your heart, be careful. The most incredible feeling might just overwhelm you. And if you continue in this behavior, that feeling may become permanent.

There is More in You than You Know

Not many people realize that President Calvin Coolidge did not always live in the White House. As Vice-President, he became President upon the death of Warren G. Harding. Mrs. Harding continued to live in the White House for a time, so the Coolidges remained where they had been living - in the third-floor suite of the nearby Willard Hotel.

Once in the middle of the night, the new President awoke to see an intruder going through his clothes. He watched as the thief first removed a wallet, then unhooked a watch chain. Coolidge calmly spoke up from the darkness: "About that watch, I wish you wouldn't take that."

The startled man, gaining his voice, asked, "Why?"

Coolidge answered, "I don't mean the watch and chain, only the charm. I'm very fond of that charm. It means a great deal to me. Take it near the window and read what is engraved on the back of it."

The burglar read: "Presented to Calvin Coolidge, Speaker of the House, by the Massachusetts General Court." And now he was more surprised!

"Are you President Coolidge?" he asked. He evidently did not think he'd find the President sleeping in a hotel!

"Yes, I am, and I don't want you to take that charm," he said. Then he asked, "Why, Son, are you doing this?"

The young man explained that he and a friend traveled to Washington during their college break. They spent all of their money and had no money to pay the hotel bill or pay for train passage back to school. "If you don't mind," he said, "I'll just take the wallet."

Coolidge did mind. He knew he had about $80 in his wallet. So he said, "How much will it take to pay your hotel bill and get you and your friend back to the campus? Sit down and let's talk this over."

Coolidge added up the room rate and two rail tickets. It came to $32. That may not sound like much now, but it was a considerable sum then. "I'll give you the $32 as a loan," the President said, "and I expect you to pay me back."

The youth thanked him. Coolidge then advised him to leave by the same window he used to enter the room, as secret service agents were sure to be patrolling the hallway. As the young man climbed out, Coolidge left him with this admonition: "Son, you're a nice boy. You are better than you are acting. You are starting down the wrong road. Just remember who you are."

It wasn't until after the death of Mrs. Coolidge in 1957 that this story was allowed to come out. It was first published in the "Los Angeles Times." And most interesting of all is that the President's notes show that the young man was indeed better than he was acting. He repaid the $32 loan in full.

Kurt Hahn, the founder of Outward Bound, said this: "There is more in us than we know. If we can be made to see it, perhaps, for the rest of our lives, we will be unwilling to settle for less."

As Advent Unfolds

One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: To dwell in the Lord’s house all the days of my life. (Psalm 27:4)

As Advent unfolds, we long for the Savior who will bring forth a new creation and present a kingdom of justice, mercy, and peace to the eternal Father. The Lord revealed His coming presence over time. When on earth, He revealed himself in various ways. Some, like these blind men, called out to Him as Messiah, the Son of David; others, like the woman who touched His cloak, had their quietly-held belief; Nicodemus came at night and the Centurion professed his faith at the foot of the cross.

Advent is about waiting, longing, searching for the Lord of my life, to have Him come anew, to grant me healing mercy and deeper faith. It is about needing a savior, my life's refuge, and the need of all people for a Savior: “Prepare ye, the way of the Lord.” The Lord reveals Himself in various ways, as presently now in the Eucharist, the Word, in prayer and in the communion of believers.

Cultivate patient waiting. What are the Lord's ways in your life? What message should we take to others?

“I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.” (Psalm 27:13)