ALL  I  WANT  FOR  CHRISTMAS…. 

She was the nicest grandmother anyone would ever want.

And all she ever wanted was peace in the family.

Now by the time she was a grandmother, she knew what every grandmother knows: peace in the family is relative - and most of the time it has to do with relatives.

In-laws who can become out-laws … at times or for a time - because of something said that was stupid. Brothers and sisters not talking to each other because one does very well money wise and becomes uppity for a while - hopefully just for a while.

And she knew peace in the family is held together with crazy glue and duct tape - time - lots of forgiveness - patience - presence - as well as absence - depending on the situation - and keeping one’s lips zipped at the right time - and unzipped when someone needs a solid piece of wisdom - rarely wanted - but sometimes it’s asked for - and sometimes it’s needed - but it better be presented with delicacy. Otherwise ….

And she knew listening was 75 % of the deal and speaking was only 5 % of the deal and the other 20 % needs  to be well timed with well placed questions.

That December grandma was asked at least 100 times by her 5 kids and 15 grandkids, “Grandma … Nanny … Na Na … Nonny… what do you want for Christmas?”

Sometimes she would say, “My two front teeth!

Then she would start singing, but not too well,  “All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” and then she would grab her front teeth bridge by her thumb and forefinger - semi-take them out her mouth a bit and then smile - and get a great smile from whoever it was who asked her what she wanted for Christmas.

Next she would have her other throw-away comments for what she wanted for Christmas: “You, just you - as my best Christmas gift”  - and the little ones would give her great hugs for that comment.

Or she would slowly repeat the question,  “What do I want for Christmas?” 

She would pause and then say, “Peace in the family and peace on earth - peace in our world!” and that would not register too deep in the soil and the soul of the next generation - but in time - she hoped that word seed would germinate and resonate.

The phone rang….

It was her daughter….

“Mom we need your prayers. Nancy just had her baby - out in Seattle. and it doesn’t look good. Something’s wrong with her heart.”

“Oooh,” silence.

“And,” her daughter continued, “since you’re our designated prayer, and since this is your first great-grandchild, lots of prayers. We need lots of prayers. We’re heading out to Washington State  tomorrow. We suspect we will have Christmas in Seattle as well as be sleepless in Seattle.”

“Okay.” Grandma said. “But wait…. Without interfering make sure you tell Nancy and Steve to check out a teaching hospital there - get second opinions if possible - and depending on what the story is - maybe there are clinical trials.”

“Okay,” said her daughter. “Thank you mom. We can always count on you for good advice as well as prayers and faith. Thanks.”

Silence.

Grandma then headed for her rocking chair - her prayer chair - and started praying for her new great-granddaughter - the one in Seattle - the one with the heart problem - whatever it is.

And “Ooops!” she thought, “I didn’t even ask what the new baby’s name is.”

She began thinking - she began praying, “God bring these kids of mine back to you - back to church - back to faith - back to prayers. Let this little child - be the one - when they see the little one in the manager in some church for Christmas in Seattle - let this little baby be the one who will open up their Inn for Christ - and make more room for him in their lives.”

And she thought about Nancy - her granddaughter - and Steve her husband, the parents of this new born baby. Their marriage is shaky…. Their nights, I hear, are not silent nights - nor are they calm - nor are they bright…..so let his baby make them right.

She then began thinking about her life - how Christ was there for them - not only at Christmas - but also especially for their Good Friday - that Friday in August - many years ago - when John her husband had his heart attack and died at work. Wow ……………………That was a tough time - a Bad Friday - but we got through it. I got through it being a single mom at that point with 5 kids to raise.

Thank you God, we did it. College.  Marriages…. Helping with grandkids…. Now this new baby…. Help us God. Help us, God,  to realize these stories in the Bible, not just for way back when - but for now - like right now - here and now. And everyone’s life is messy at times - not a comfortable Inn but a messy stable.

She asked Jesus in prayer, “Is that why you were born the way you were born and where you were born?”

At that, like all grandmothers who pray, she fell asleep in prayer in the Lord. Amen.

She’ll wake up with no solutions - only worries about that baby and she’ll stand up saying her favorite saying, “Life: to be continued….”

 O    O    O    O    O    O    O

CHRISTMAS

STORIES

FOR THOSE

WHO

BELIEVE

IN

CHRISTMAS

by Father Andy Costello, C.Ss.R.

by Andy Costello

CONTENTS

Introduction

1) The Greatest Christmas Gift

2) Mack & Missy

3) Thousands of Christmas Photos

4) The Thinking Sheep

5) The Camel With the Great Smile

6) Roscoe

7) Footsteps In The Snow

8) House Painters

9) Christmas, Lima, Peru

10) His Last Christmas

11) Timmy’s Eight Christmas

12) Little Nell

13) Wise Fool

14) Fake Dog, Real Life

15) The Big Boy

16) Hamburgers For Five
17) Seeing Through The Back of Your Head

18) Recalculating

19) 2 Wise Women, 1 Wise Man

20) Real Christmas Tree or Fake Christmas Tree

21) The Present

22) Happy Ending

23) A Two for One Christmas Tree

24) All I Want For Christmas….

INTRODUCTION

Duff began our breakfast conversation with, “Well, I finished that.”

“Finished what?” I asked.

“My Christmas story.”

“What Christmas story?”

“Oh, every year I write a Christmas story for my niece in Boston. I’ve been doing it for years.”

I asked, “Can I read it?”

“No,” he said, “it’s nothing.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“Well, okay,” he said.

I got it from him after breakfast.

The typing was bad – but the story was good.

He was BC – Before Computer, so before bringing it back to him, I retyped it on my computer.

Then I walked down the long corridor in the retreat house where we lived and knocked on his door. When he opened his door I said, “Great story, Duff. I just retyped it. If there are any changes you want me to make, just let me know. They are very easy to do with a computer.”

“Thanks,” he said. Looking at the neat copy, he continued, “but you didn’t have to retype it.”

Sure enough, the next day, he knocked on my door. There were several changes he’d like to make. He stood there looking over my shoulder at the computer screen as I made the changes. He was amazed at what a computer could do. I hit “Print” and he had a perfect copy of his Christmas story for his niece in hand.

The following December, just after Thanksgiving, he knocked on my door. This time he had a hand-written document. He asked if I could type this year’s Christmas story for his niece.

I said, “Gladly.”

I sat there at my desk typing his new Christmas story for his niece. At one point I found myself looking out the window to see how deep and how fast the snow was falling.

Surprise: it wasn’t snowing. In fact, it was a cold, but bright sunny day – with no snow on the ground and no snow in the forecast.

But it was snowing in his story.

It was one of those moments of insight. It was the moment I realized the power of story.

The following August I was transferred to another place, so that was the last Christmas story I typed for Duff.

Three years later, on the day before Christmas, there I was at another desk working on a homily for Christmas. I was now stationed at St. Gerard’s Church, in Lima, Ohio. I was wondering what to say for a homily based on the Christmas story as found in the scriptures.

The notice came in that day: Father John Duffy, C.SS.R. died – December 24, 1993.

It hit me, “Why not write a Christmas story for a homily, in memory of Duff?”

I did and I have been doing it every Christmas since. I’m now up to number 24.

These are those stories.

Someday I might give it a shot as a book. They are a bit uneven - and some a tiny bit “preachy” - but maybe.

And maybe I’ll throw in a story or two by Duff. He’s long gone - so he can’t complain.

A Christmas story has to be sentimental and mushy, mystical and magical. It has to have a kick and some substance in it. It has to tell the Christmas story.  I hope these stories come close to these benchmarks. I know they don’t come near the stories Duff wrote.

OOOOOOO

You can find some of these stories in Christmas Past on my blog - that goes back to June 17, 2007