The Friendly Beasts

Jesus our brother, kind and good
Was humbly born in a stable rude
And the friendly beasts around Him stood
Jesus our brother, kind and good.
--Garth Brooks

My grandmother had an electric organ in her living room. With a flip of a switch, you could add a samba beat, a waltz beat, an oboe sound, or any other variety of instruments. I don't ever remember seeing her play it. But it was always there for us to fiddle around with. She had simple music, and those of us who could read music would plunk our way through various songs and come December, an assortment of Christmas carols. I loved this song. Each animal tells the others what he gave to the Christ child. I think it's the bit of Doctor Doolittle in all of us that believes deep down animals really can speak.

"I," said the dove from the rafters high,
"Cooed Him to sleep that He should not cry;
We cooed Him to sleep, my mate and I."
"I," said the dove from the rafters high.

At Christmas, we alternated which grandmother would spend the holiday with us each year. Every Christmas Eve my aunt and uncle had a huge open house. It was mostly relatives, with a few friends and neighbors thrown in. Over the course of the evening, there were probably 40 or 50 people that came and went. Once in a while, a family friend dressed as Santa would show up. We'd get all dressed up,and go over there for a dinner of snacks and drinks. Grownups sat around the living room, dining room, or den, or were bustling around the kitchen. Kids hung out in the downstairs and would drift in and out of the upstairs rooms for food and adult attention.

Then we'd leave for midnight Mass. I think my parents didn't particularly like staying up late enough for midnight Mass but once we got old enough to lobby for it, we did. We preferred that to having to stop the Christmas morning festivities to go to church. So we'd leave my aunt and uncle's, head to church, and get home sometime around 1am. One grandma or the other would be with us, and would get my brother's bedroom for the night, down on the first floor with my parents. He'd join us girls upstairs, usually camping out in a sleeping bag.

The rule was, we couldn't come downstairs in the morning until Santa (or my parents) rang a bell. So here we were, coming home from church at 1am. Too excited to fall asleep and up talking and giggling until 2am or later. And then someone would invariably wake up around 5am, too excited to go back to sleep and wake the others up. And now what to do? We wanted our parents to wake up so we could get up. My dad could sleep through Armageddon. My mother was deaf. We were upstairs. They were downstairs. And we tried all sorts of things to wake them up. I remember one year my sister put her trumpet to the floor at 6am and started playing Christmas carols. In hindsight, I feel sorry for my grandmothers.

We'd finally be allowed to get up and see what Santa had left in our stockings. Then breakfast. Somewhere along the line, my mother tried a recipe she found in the paper that became known as the Christmas Morning Hotdish that we had every year after that. I make the same Christmas breakfast for my girls that I grew up with...grapefruit, bacon, veal kidneys, hotdish. Then we'd open our presents. Usually way too quickly for my mother's liking. Then time to run our grandma home. If it was Grandma Helen, she went back to her house to get started on the dinner. Our other grandma went to back to my aunt's for the rest of the day. But we always went to Grandma Helen's for dinner, and so did my cousins. All of us were crowded into her little house--very fond memories for me.

Thus every beast by some good spell
In the stable dark was glad to tell
Of the gift he gave Emmanuel,
The gift he gave Emmanuel.

Tonight I had a wonderfully full house. All three of my girls were here. All of their boyfriends were here. My brother stopped in for a while. The girls spent the evening making gingerbread houses. Their boyfriends helped here and there. There was a lot of good food, Christmas music playing, and a lot of laughter. These are my most favorite evenings. I loved watching them have this time with each other. I love that they get along with each other and enjoy spending time together, doing simple things like this. I am happy that they family is a good place for them to be, like it was for me. These are the gifts we give each other.