Babouschka was an Old Russian woman who deliberately misled the three wise men as to the whereabouts of Bethlehem so they would not find Jesus.
Later
Babouschka was overcome by remorse and set off after them to put things right
but she could not find them.
As
a result, to this day, on January 5, it is believed Babouschka visits Russian
children leaving gifts at their bedsides in the hope that one of them is the
baby Jesus and she will be forgiven.
It was in sixteenth century Germany, or so the legend has it, in a town called Wittenberg in Saxony-Anhalt.
That
the founder of the protestant church, Martin Luther, was the first to decorate
a Christmas tree with lighted candles.
Apparently
when he was walking home through the forest one dark and frosty winter’s night,
his attention was drawn to the myriad of bright stars that he could see
sparkling and twinkling through the branches of the fir trees.
The
beauty of the nights display had a great effect on him, and he proceeded home
very excited.
When
he arrived home, he relayed to his family what he had seen and what had excited
him so and almost immediately he set about decorating his Christmas tree with
candles and then to his families surprise he lit them.
Goodness
only knows what his family thought, that he was possessed possibly.
And
what of the other people in the town what did they think of him and his antics.
It
probably caused more consternation than the reformation.
The Ronettes where playing on the radio, it was Christmas morning.
The
children were rushing about like they’d had a caffeine injection; excitedly
showing off their new toys while my wife was wrestling a turkey into the oven.
As
I sat in my armchair sipping my coffee my mind drifted back to the previous
week.
The
wipers swished rhythmically as they cleared the lightly beating sleet that was
spattering the windscreen and the heater struggled to demist the inside.
All
this was of no consequence as the car wasn’t actually moving.
It
was the last Friday before Christmas and I was sat in a jam in the evening rush
hour.
Half
an hour I‘d been stuck in it and I was still only half a mile from where I
worked.
I
had time to take in the colourful and sometimes overly extravagant festive
decoration on the houses which contrasted sharply with the meagre and tired
looking display put on by the local council.
After
another half an hour I reached the main road.
Nothing
to see here through the wet steamy windows except the red taillights of other
frustrated drivers.
Twenty
minutes after that accompanied by some over cheerful DJ on the radio, I could
see the roundabout.
The
sleety rain was falling harder now, and it was difficult to see through the
murkiness.
After
crawling to the roundabout, I could just make out a flashing blue light which I
suspected had nothing to do with Christmas.
As
I got closer, I could see it was attached to a police car which was blocking my
exit.
Without
any explanation the police had closed the road.
So,
I was faced with a choice, go back the way I came or take the exit off the
roundabout which would take me in the opposite direction from where I lived.
I
did the latter.
By
the time I eventually arrived home I was in a black mood.
I
shouted at the kids, moaned at my wife and tried to kick the cat.
My
mood was not improved when my half-cremated dinner was removed from the oven
and what had once been gravy was now only a stain on the plate.
The
weekend was spent doing all the pre-Christmas stuff with the family and all too
soon it was over.
When
I returned to work on Monday, I related my tale of woe to my workmate’s and we
all had a big laugh about it.
Except
for Harry, who lived locally, he just looked down at the ground grave faced.
Later,
when we were alone, he told me the road was closed because a young woman had been
knocked down and killed.
I
was dumbstruck, I had no words just a feeling of shame at my selfishness.
A
week before Christmas, she had died.
While
I was cursing at being inconvenienced, ranting at being stuck in a jam.
A
poor young woman lay dead in the rain-soaked street.
Somebody’s
wife and lover, also a daughter and mother and she was mourned by two children,
a sister, and a brother.
The
sound of church Bells ringing out brought me back to Christmas morning and my
family.
But
I still couldn’t help thinking of other families for whom Christmas morning
would be less joyous.
With
the bells still ringing out I gave thanks for being alive.
Also,
I vowed to be more patient, more tolerant and more understanding in the future.
But
I probably won’t keep it.
Belgium is one of the few countries who celebrate more than one Christmas tradition within its borders.
In
Dutch-speaking Flanders, great musical and colourful parades greet St. Nicholas
as he and his assistants arrive in November by boat, train, or on horseback to
get ready for his feast day on the 6th of December.
On
December 5th, St. Nicholas' Eve, children put their shoes or small baskets at
the fireside or by the door with carrots and sugar lumps for the saint's horse.
They
believe St. Nicholas and Zwarte Piet ride on horseback over the rooftops,
dropping gifts down the chimneys.
In
French-speaking Wallonia St Nicolas comes, as well, where he is often riding a
donkey accompanied by Père Fouettard, as in France.
In
the towns and villages close to the German border the more Germanic tradition
is followed in which he travels with a white horse or donkey and is accompanied
by Ruprecht.
But all three have in common that by the morning shoes have been filled with chocolates, cookies, fruit and toys.
The Seven Joys of Mary
English
traditional Music and lyrics authorship unknown
The
very first joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of one
To see her blessed Jesus
When He was first her Son
When He was first her Son.
Chorus
When He was Her first Son,
Good Lord;
And happy may we be,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost
To all eternity
The
next good joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of two
To see her own son Jesus,
To make the lame to go.
To make the lame to go. Chorus
The
next good joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of three
To see her own son Jesus,
To make the blind to see.
To make the blind to see. Chorus
The
next good joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of four
To see her own son Jesus,
To read the Bible o'er.
To read the Bible o'er. Chorus
The
next good joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of five
To see her own son Jesus,
To bring the dead alive.
To bring the dead alive. Chorus
The
next good joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of six
To see her own son Jesus,
Upon the Crucifix
Upon the Crucifix. Chorus
The
next good joy that Mary had,
It was the joy of seven
To see her own son Jesus,
To wear the crown of Heaven
To wear the crown of Heaven Chorus
Christy Dickinson (Kelley Jakle) is a toy company executive who, as a result of her claim to know everything there is to know about the holidays, is invited to a holiday party by a prospective client David Berger (Michael Gordin Shore) where she is expected to show what she knows.
However,
it isn’t until after the meeting that she finds out that David is Jewish, and
she must learn as much about Hanukkah as she can in order to land the account.
So
she enlists the help of her co-worker and friend Samantha Ames (Cory Lee), who
introduces her to a teacher from her children’s school, Jonathan Silver (Jake
Epstein) who is Jewish and in need of help himself as he has to turn his home
into a Christmas Wonderland to impress his girlfriend's father.
After
a rocky start they are soon learning about each other’s traditions but along
the way they learn things about their own lives, and they grow ever closer,
though neither expects anything to come of it.
That
is until Christy dumps her selfish unsupportive boyfriend Peter (Jon McLaren)
after she found out he lied to her about the reason he couldn’t go to the party
with her.
What do a Christmas tree
And a celibate,
have in comparison?
The answer is simple to see
Their balls
are just for decoration
