Cottage Blessings

Last year's resolution

Toward the end of 2015, two things happened that changed the course of 2016. The first was that our whole family made a Marian Consecration on December 8th, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. It was the conclusion of a parish wide preparation led by our pastor, Father McCartney. When we made the consecration, I wasn't sure what it would mean, but I knew something would change. The second was that we concluded the year with Midnight Benediction at my childhood parish, St. Mary's. I wrote about this recently, but did not mention that we first discovered this beautiful, holy event on New Year's Eve 2015-16. We left church that night with the feeling that makes you want to say, "Lord, it is good that we are here."

Soon afterward, we were at an Epiphany party. There were about five families there, all with children, and we played a game of "resolutions." Each person wrote down a New Year's resolution on a piece of paper, folded it up, and placed it in a hat. The resolutions were read aloud, and the object was to match the person to the plan. I do not usually give much thought to resolutions, perhaps because I never seem to persevere in anything longer than six weeks. Looking down at that blank slip, I realized that between the January 1st holy day of obligation, first Saturday, and a Sunday, we were three days into the new year, and we had been to Mass every day.

I wrote: "My New Year's resolution is to attend Mass every day in 2016."

Now we've always tried to go to Mass fairly often, sometimes very often, but if anything would come up--a morning lesson or appointment, a change of plans, a few raindrops--Mass during the week was the first thing to go. Suddenly, in 2016, I found myself carefully planning. The 9 o'clock Mass was our usual, but within a five mile radius of our house, we found parishes with daily Masses at 7, 8, 12 noon, and even 5:30 in the evening. Truthfully, here where we live, Mass is almost as readily available during the week as it is on a Sunday.

Days and weeks passed, and I kept wondering if we would have some obstacle to getting to Mass, but this only happened once--a late January blizzard kept us absolutely and completely snowed in for a whole day from morning until night. A few months later, getting to Mass required a minor miracle. We were vacationing on Martha's Vineyard (imagine me saying that in a Woodside accent, and it won't sound so snooty), but it was a week before the Summer season began. The three parishes on the Vineyard combine in the off season, and there is no Mass on the island at all on Fridays. I looked into taking a ferry to the mainland for one day, but the ferry and Mass times did not at all coincide. I prayed, "Dear Lord, would you please let there be a Mass here on Friday?" After Mass on Thursday, the priest was greeting people. I shook his hand and said, "Father, there is no Mass here tomorrow, is there?" He said, "Normally there isn't, but we are having a special memorial Mass tomorrow at 9 am."

God is good.

Most days, the children came with me--one of my younger daughters came every single day, even to those early 7 o'clock Masses. My husband joined us now and then on days when he didn't need to be at work too early. Toward the end of 2016, I almost couldn't believe the year was drawing to a close, and we had had the blessing of Mass every single day. (Remember that blizzard? God must have felt sorry for us, because He generously provided a February 29th leap day to make up for it.) I started to wonder what had this year of grace meant--what was God preparing us for? It had begun with a Marian consecration and benediction, and it had been a beautiful year for us. Yes, it had the trials and troubles of any normal year, but it was hallowed and felt like the start of something. It felt like a Year of Mercy.

Yesterday, I spoke briefly with our pastor after Mass. He mentioned 2017 as the 100th Anniversary of Fatima and the importance of this great event. In 1917, the Blessed Mother appeared in Fatima, Portugal, to three shepherd children the same age as my youngest three and gave a message of peace and hope to the world. Yet, there is another important part to the story that is sometimes forgotten. The children were first visited in 1916 by the Angel of Peace who prepared them for the appearance of Our Lady by teaching them prayers and even giving them Holy Communion. 

I look back on 2016 as a gift sent one hundred years after the visit of the Angel of Peace--a time of prayer and preparation and grace. How happy and hopeful and eager we are as we await this great centenary of Fatima.

 

A Bundle, a Basket, and a Buche de Noel

When my friend, Mary, invited us over for a potluck supper on the Feast of the Epiphany, we did not know it would turn out to be an evening of wonders, with old-fashioned games, a full-scale Christmas pageant, and even a visit from good St. Nicholas himself. My children and four other families had participated in an art exhibit at a local museum, and the gathering was planned as a way to celebrate afterward.

Here is one of the baskets we brought. Don't you love that Book of Kells tea towel? It was brought home for us from Ireland by my friend, Caroline:

We packed it with all the non-perishable ingredients for a Tea to Celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany [The perishables were toted in a far less photogenic cooler]:

After an afternoon of playing outdoors, the children came in for old-fashioned party games:

My personal favorite was the game of quotes. The children lined up in two teams with words from a famous quote on their backs. The object was to put themselves in the correct order without saying a single word to one another. [First team with the quote in order wins.] Here the girls show the mixed up words to Puck's famous quote, "Lord, what fools these mortals be!":

Next they had a scavenger hunt. All the objects on the list below were hidden in the living and family rooms. As a participant in this particular game, I will tell you they were not easy to find. The items were left in plain view, and the children were asked not to touch anything, so the game did not turn to chaos as it might have otherwise:

With the games completed, my friend Kari brought all the children upstairs to prepare for a beautiful, impromptu Epiphany Pageant, complete with poetry and hyms. They pulled names from a hat to determine roles and came down to perform for the parents.

I was amazed at how quickly they pulled it all together, right down to costumes. Here the parents wait for the performance:

The cast poses after a job well done:

While they were rehearsing, Mary, Caroline, Aleta and I set the table for the Epiphany Tea. You will notice we brought our Christmas pyramid along as a centerpiece. The children loved it, even when one of the candles fell momentarily and started to burn the surrounding wreath:

Here is our hostess Mary's clever take on "Baby Jesus in a Manger" for the Epiphany Tea, homemade gingerbread babes on soft beds of coconut straw:

Kari brought this traditional Buche de Noel:

Aleta made these almond studded jam tarts, a reminder of the host of angels in a starry sky:

[Although I do not have a picture, Caroline brought her famous scones, tiny "pillows" for the Baby Jesus.]

Agnes read her three letters to the Wise Men from last year to the younger children:

Just as we were getting to the last crumb, the doorbell rang. It was late, and we were not expecting anyone, so this was quite strange, but our hostess hastened to open the door:

Lo, and behold, there on the porch was a huge red bag full of presents for each and every one of the children and even the adults:

We did not see who left these welcome gifts, but the children were quite certain dear St. Nicholas had a hand in it:

Maureen was thrilled with her package of small toys and coloring book:

And the baby exclaimed ere she drove out of sight, "Happy Epiphany to all, and to all a good night!"

Tea, Turtledoves, and Treading Water: When Candlemas Comes to Call

O Blessed Mother of God, who went up to the Temple according to the law with your
offering of little white doves, pray for me that I too may keep the law and be pure in heart
like you.

Sweet heart of Mary, be my salvation.

--from the Novena for Purification

I have a confession to make--we have never celebrated Candlemas in our house. Candlemas, for me, is a pleasant sounding holiday with a name that makes me think of medieval times, kind of like Michaelmas and Martinmas, two other celebrations we only discovered recently.

This year a series of events led me to believe that the Holy Spirit might be prompting us to do more for this great feast of the Purification of Our Lady.

First, the Purification Novena scheduled months ago at Loreto Cottage began (prayed especially for the wonderful Theresa)--it was several days before I even realized that The Purification and Candlemas are the same Feast! (So that's what Candlemas is!) Then out of the blue, a local friend emailed a beautiful Candlemas prayer. Another friend announced she would be hosting the Loveliness of Candlemas Fair. (I could not wait to read it, but did not at first even think about participating--after all, we had *no* plan to celebrate the feast at all!) The final straw--a straw from the manger perhaps--came when a dear friend from our local homeschooling group presented me with a bright yellow folder on Friday. Tucked inside were page after page of Candlemas prayers and hymns collected from several of her treasured out of print books--all painstakingly photocopied just for me.

At that point, I knew God was telling me something!

For those of you unfamiliar with Candlemas (myself included up until about a day or so ago), it is the Feast of the Purification of Our Lady and the Presentation of Our Lord in the Temple. Traditionally called Candlemas because candles are blessed on this day to help us remember the words of holy Simeon who called the babe in his arms, "A light to lighten the gentiles and the glory of your people, Israel." Luke 2: 32.

As we often do with feasts, the girls and I are planning a Tea, along with a special centerpiece and craft. It is admittedly hastily planned, but we never let perfectionism stand in the way of fun!

Candlemas Tea Menu

Pure Tea
Sugar Cubes for Our Lady
Milk for St. Joseph
Water
A pair of turtledoves
Holy Simeon's Arms
Piercing swords
Anna the Prophetess
Pure Hearts
Theresa's edible tapers (optional)

Reading: Luke 2: 22-40.

Recipes and Suggestions:

1. Pure Tea

I hope this will not sound too silly, but many boxes of tea are marked "pure tea." It seems to me that this might be pointed out to the children in conjunction with a discussion of the ritual of purification.

2. Sugar Cubes for Our Lady and Milk for St. Joseph

This is an idea borrowed from Our Epiphany Tea, and the explanations fit just as well here. When discussing Our Lady, I would point out that the whiteness of the sugar reminds us of her purity. Out of obedience and humility, she went to the Temple for the ritual of Purification, but she was at all times sinless and spotless from the moment of her conception.

3. Water

Water is so associated with purity and purification that a pitcher of spring water for the table makes sense for this celebration. We are also planning a holy water centerpiece (below).

4. A pair of turtledoves

There are so many possibilities for this offering--anything from delicate white sandwiches to small meringues, but for this celebration, the children in our family will be preparing a small craft for the table featuring craft store doves in a basket. (I purchased the doves on Saturday, and it has been all I could do to keep the children from playing with them! I found one attached to a handwrought floral fairy's car today!)

5. Holy Simeon's Arms

Holy Simeon held the Christ Child in his arms saying, "Now, Master, you may let your servant go in peace, according to Your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation." Luke 2: 29-30. To remember the loving arms of Simeon, twisted pretzels (first invented in the middle ages to represent arms folded in prayer) will be a readily obtained and simple symbol.

As you are serving them, remind the children that Christ would later preach, "You are the salt of the earth . . . . You are the light of the world." (Mt. 5: 13-14.)

6. Piercing Swords

Simeon was moved by the Holy Spirit to declare to Our Lady, "Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted, and you yourself a sword will pierce, so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed." Luke 2: 34-35.

A simple cube of mild cheese, topped with a grape tomato and pierced with a toothpick would provide a good visual for the children. If you have a party store near you, you might even pick up the perfect box ofSword Toothpicks.

7. Anna the Prophetess

Oh, how I love Anna--worshiping in the temple day and night at the age of 84. [This would be my mother if she did not have grandchildren. : )]

Because Anna was a widow, something black might represent her well. I can think of many possibilities, but our family will pick up a box of Mallomars. They are perfect for Anna. The black outer shell shows that she is a widow, but inside you will see the purity and goodness of her devout heart represented in the white center. Note that the marshmallow stands on top of a graham cracker, and remind the children that this good woman never left the floor of the Temple day or night.

(By the way, up until recently, I would have told you I could not stand Mallomars, but I tried one around Christmas, and it was surprisingly good.)

8. Pure Hearts

Have the children dip strawberries in fresh whipped cream to represent Our Lady's pure and innocent heart. If you managed to get sword toothpicks, it would be very effective to skewer each strawberry for added significance.

Another possibility:

We have a small fondue pot that rarely gets used. I may let the children dip the strawberries into melted white chocolate kept warm over a candle, just because I like the idea of the candle for Candlemas.

9. Theresa's Edible Tapers

Speaking of fondue pots, 11 year old Theresa made a creative suggestion we will not have time to test in advance. Cut small pieces of shoestring licorice--dip several times in melted white chocolate leaving a bit of licorice exposed as a wick. If it works, you will have tiny and adorable edible dipped tapers.

Here are some photographs of our Candlemas supplies:

On Friday morning, we will attend Mass at our parish, asking the priest to bless these floating white rose candles. The white rose seemed the perfect symbol of the Purification of Our Lady, and I plan to give the centerpiece added meaning by floating the candles in holy water, allowing the children to bless themselves (before the candles are lit, of course!)

A print of the Presentation will grace the table as well, along with a children's project--doves in a basket. We only have six doves, so, just as Mary and Joseph shared a pair of turtledoves, each pair of my children will share a pair as well.

I never did post pictures of my glorious Advent log in its fully lighted beauty. (Thank you, Rebecca!!!) Fortunately, I am a procrastinator, and the log is still on our living room mantle. I plan on replacing the red Christmas candle with a large fat white one, decorated with Marian symbols to become a Mary Candle. We will light the white side candles and sing Candlemas hymns, processing out afterward to bid a last farewell to our outdoor creche. It will be a fitting end to the official Christmas season, and for once I am glad we never got around to putting some things away!

And a word about treading water. As you know, the learning room of our cottage is soaked through. Yesterday, a workman brought me over to survey the cleanup effort, and I was shocked to see the room stripped down to the studs. The walls and ceiling were ripped out, and even part of the adjacent bathroom wall was no more. The place looked worse, if anything, so much worse than when it was merely wet with a ceiling piece hanging down. Still, I knew it had to be done if the room is to get better.

Then it occurred to me that the stripped room was a perfect metaphor for purification--in many ways, to improve our hearts and become true followers of Christ, we need to strip them down to the studs, lopping away all that is festering within us and holding us back from Him. Even Our Lady, pure and sinless though she was, was pruned and groomed in the school of suffering--told on the very day of Purification of a sword that would pierce her heart.

And so, Candlemas has come to call this year, in more ways than one.

Sowing a Seed

"Joshua and the battle of Jericho, Jericho, Jericho! Joshua and the battle of Jericho! And the walls came tumbling down!"

I can still see the scene in my mind's eye: the cafeteria of St. Mary's School, surreal to me at night, with an assortment of neighborhood children pressing round a fortress of cardboard milk cartons. The gang of us are singing at the top of our lungs, before bolting forward with a whoop to topple the flimsy firmament at just the right moment. This simple, boisterous game was all part of "Family Night," an event promoted in those days by a young priest named Father Daily and filed away forever in my treasure chest of joyful childhood memories. I am not sure what I knew about Joshua or Jericho at the time, yet the fun and wild abandon of the game remains with me still.

Then there was Lent at St. Mary's Church and the 7:30 evening Mass in its dimly lit basement. My mother and our neighbor, Mrs. Maloney, would rarely miss it. Anne Maloney and I could not wait to pile into the car for the novel nightly outing, or better yet walk under the train trestle with its flourescent lights and cooing pigeons, pretty sure of a soda at Alexander's afterward, and, if we were very lucky, a piece of creamy white chocolate to split between us. How I loved those Masses with Anne at my side and holy Father Callahan on the altar. The memory of them brings a pleasing mist to my eyes even now.

Looking back on my early "spiritual" experiences, I see now that, although they were in some ways less than ethereal, those blessed moments are cloaked in a mantle of simple childish gladness and mirth. To this day, I love the Mass and the Church and the Holy Bible and our parish priests, and, it seems to me, the seeds of Faith and love and loyalty were sown deep, sown in the ready heart of a child and fed and fertilized with soda and smiles, war whoops and white chocolate.

In passing on the Faith to our children, it is a great hope of mine that we will allow them to form many happy associations like these. Armed with a childhood of fond religious memories, they surely will fare far better against the world's onslaught than those tottery milk cartons in the cafeteria. With this in mind, we have begun a new tradition in our home--First Saturday Outings.

The idea was born over hot chocolates in Starbuck's back in December. I had taken the four older girls and my favorite slingrider to do a little window shopping while dh watched Patrick and Maureen. The night was pleasingly temperate, and our spirits were so high that it made me wonder why we rarely go out together in the evening. It happened to be First Saturday, and I considered what fun it would be make a special trip every First Saturday night. The girls were at once taken with the idea and talked about the first Saturday of January for a full month. Even the wonders of Christmas and New Year's could not dilute their eager anticipation.

First Saturday morning, the children awoke already talking about Mass and Confession and the special trip planned for afterward. This month, our outing consisted of omelettes at a local diner with a walk through Border's Bookstore afterward. Dh and I decided to spring for a round of hot cocoa at the cafe, but, much to everyone's dismay, they were all out of (gasp) cocoa powder. Fortuitously, the girl behind the counter offered white chocolate as a substitute, and, you will be glad to learn, the pale variety was accepted by today's young Catholics as readily as it was by Anne Maloney and Alice O'Brien those many years ago.

We arrived home late and began the usual bustle of toothbrushing, pajama hunting, and laundry rounding ("It's like herding cats," quipped dh.) The little three were asleep in an instant, when I remembered we had not yet said a Rosary or meditated an extra fifteen minutes on the Mysteries for First Saturday. The four girls were only too happy to stay up a while longer for a cozy, quiet Rosary, and I was just about to remind them of the quarter hour's meditation, when an idea struck me.

"Get on your coats, girls."

Eight eyes opened wide, and even dh uttered a disbelieving, "Did you say 'coats'?"

Within two minutes, we were outside under the stars--barely chilly with the springlike weather we have been having--and singing around our outdoor creche. Everything but the creche was pitch black, and the children's voices rose sweetly in the thin night air. Hymn after hymn of their own choosing: "Lo, How a Rose E're Blooming," "Adeste Fideles," "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," "Do You Know What I Know?" "Away in a Manger"--they formed the merriest little quartet of carolers you ever heard, inventing harmonies and smiling toward the stable. I listened silently, my heart swelling with hope that these blessed hymns might be their "Joshua and the Battle of Jericho," with each heartfelt note girding them for adulthood.

As we walked back to the house, I found more than one young hand had made its way into mine, and a couple of the girls walked ahead arm in arm. Margaret turned to me with a face as bright as the moon above our heads and proclaimed, "This was such a fun day!"

More music to my ears.

Scenes from our Tea for the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany

Our Tea for the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany was appreciated by all the children, and I am hoping it will become a tradition in our house for many years to come.

How perfect is this teapot (coffee pot, actually)? Its deep burgundy and woodsy hues form a cozy backdrop for the lyrics to "Silent Night." I found this treasure at an after-Christmas sale and almost did not purchase it. That is, until I caught site of the nesting sugar and creamer and was smitten instantly and irrevocably. I had never before seen a creamer resting atop a sugar bowl, and, although I realize it will never hold enough milk to accommodate that hulking coffee pot, true love isn't necessarily practical. Believe it or not, it was only when I brought these home that I realized how perfect they would be for our Christmas Tea! After all, tea may be brewed in a coffee pot!

"Tea from the Innkeeper":

"Sugar Cubes for Our Lady":

"Milk for St. Joseph":

As you can see, the creamer actually forms a lid for the sugar bowl, reminding us that St. Joseph is the protector of Our Lady:

I had planned on heading out to the bakery for a baguette and rolls, but a busy morning prevented the errand. Theresa saved the day by whipping up a blueberry quick bread from a mix to represent "Bethlehem, House of Bread":

"Babes in the Manger":

"Shepherd's Staffs":

Margaret, Marie, Patrick, and Theresa spent part of the afternoon creating dozens of angels out of coffee filters. There were several different designs, but my personal favorites were the ones made out of our cut-up Christmas photograph. "A Host of Angels":

An angelic centerpiece, with seven angels--one for each of the children:

Agnes' letters were a highlight for all of us. She read them aloud while the others gathered round the tree. Has it truly been a year since she surprised me with that Wise Man Figure?

"Wise Men's Gifts":

At the very end, the children opened yet another very special surprise on behalf of the Christ Child:

The gifts of the Magi--gold, frankincense, and myrrh in ornate boxes--an extravagance purchased two days ago for a clearance price at yet another after-Christmas sale. I never would have thought of purchasing these, but the price was too good to pass up. You see, there are many advantages to being one of the minority who celebrates the Twelve Days of Christmas:

Of course, it wouldn't be a Cottage Blessings Party without our usual rag tag band of party crashers. Oh, how I love the ever-growing Raggedy Family:

So Eileen, what did you think of your first Christmas Tea?

Her smile says it all!

Happy Feast of the Epiphany, dear friends!

*******
Production Team

Babysitters: Theresa, Agnes, Marie, Margaret (in shifts)
Baking: Theresa
Poetry: Agnes
Angel Crafting: Margaret (lead designer), Theresa, Marie, Patrick
Best Boy: Patrick
Direction and Cinematography: Mommy
"Babe in a Manger" assembly: Marie, with help from Mommy
Tablescape Design Advice: every single person in the family, with final say given to Mommy
Music: Christmas Choirs (BMG), 3 CD set purchased at Staples for $7.99.

*******
A word about the three letters. A dear friend asked permission to read Agnes' letters aloud during her Tea. Agnes was honored beyond words and hopes anyone who wishes will feel free to do the same.

Wise Men's Gifts, Plan C, or a Bit of Unexpected Poetry

It was getting late in the day when I asked Agnes to write the three letters to Jesus on behalf of our family for our Christmas and Epiphany Tea. I told her my vision for the project, rattling off the top of my head something akin to the sample I posted here yesterday. She said, "Sure, Mom," and returned 45 minutes later with these, each separate letter written in careful script with a line drawing of the individual Wise Man kneeling before the Infant to offer his gift.

Letter Number One:

Dear Jesus,

Melchior brought
His gift of gold
For he had legions
Of wealth untold.
But You were poor
And had nought but rags
And a stable to shut out the cold.

So do we give
The gold that we make
Away to the Church
For Your people's sake.
And with Your help,
May we not withhold
From those that You love
The least scrap of our Gold.

Letter Number Two:

Dear Jesus,

Caspar was wise
And he knew not to bring
A gift that was meant
For an earthly king.
He neither gave livestock,
Nor clothing, nor wine--
He gave you a gift
That was for the Divine.
May all that we offer--
Our thoughts and our prayers--
Rise to heaven like incense
For all of our years.
To Thee do we cry, Lord,
For You we are yearning--
May the incense we offer You
Never stop burning.

Letter Number Three:

Dear Jesus,

As Balthazar watched
A tear came to his eye--
How could he tell Mary
Her Son would soon die?
He knew of the sorrow
It would give to her.
He spoke not a word
Yet he offered You myrrh.

As, surrounding the manger,
We witness Your birth,
Let us offer our sorrow
As well as our mirth.
When You leave the world
It will be a great loss--
Perhaps, by our pains,
We can lighten Your cross.

Baby Jesus was not the only one to receive three gifts today.

Tweaking things a bit

Occasionally, I post a plan only to discover it is not working quite as smoothly as I had hoped. The other day, I mentioned an activity called Wise Men's Gifts as part of our Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany Tea. The idea itself --preparing boxes of monetary and spiritual gifts for the Baby Jesus representing Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh--could be adapted as an Advent activity next year, but we have not managed to pull it together this week.

Instead, the three older children are going to write letters on behalf of our family containing promises to the Christ Child for the coming year. Here is a sample of how a child's letter might sound. (I will encourage the girls to use their own wording, or this could just as easily be prepared by Mom):

Dear Jesus,

Thank you for listening to the prayers of our family. In memory of the gift of Frankincense, we offer you all our prayers and thoughts during the New Year.

We love you with all our hearts.

The Gunther Family

The children could enclose the letters in pretty envelopes or decorative boxes to represent the Gifts. They also might enjoy taking turns reading them aloud at the table or by the creche. This is what we can manage for this year, and hopefully it will work well.

It just so happens that I have a very special surprise for the Tea picked up at an after Christmas sale this afternoon, but because my daughters read this blog, mum's the word for now. In the meantime, please pay a visit to our Creche in the Woods.

A Very Simple Tea for the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany

As 2006 draws to a close and we make ready to celebrate the Epiphany next week, I hope some of you will enjoy this simple Tea suitable for any of the Twelve Days of Christmas. While I would prefer to create detailed menus emphasizing the infancy narratives found in St. Luke and St. Matthew, time is of the essence, and a simplified version will work well for this year.

In advance of the Tea, I would suggest that mothers set aside three things--a little bit of money for the poor box, a list of special prayers said thoughout the week (especially prayers for your children), and notes of sacrifices made or sufferings offered in love (parents experience this everyday). These will be important at the end of the Tea. If you are so inclined, ask your children to join you, setting aside a portion of their Christmas money, saying special prayers, and keeping track of little hurts and sufferings they remember to offer up.

Christmas and Epiphany Tea Menu

House of Bread
Tea from the Innkeeper
Sugar Cubes for Our Lady
Milk for St. Joseph
The Babe in the Manger
Shepherds' Staffs
A Host of Angels
Wise Men's Gifts

Recipes and Suggestions

Begin by reading from any good picture book on the Nativity, choosing your version based on your children's ages and the beauty of the illustrations. As you serve the tea, re-tell the story of the Nativity, explaining the significance of each menu item as you go along. (In the recipe section below, I will attempt to show in a small way how this might be done.)

1. "House of Bread" (Lk. 2: 1-4.)

Offer the children a basket of rolls with butter to represent Bethlehem, which means "House of Bread." As you read or tell the beginning of the Nativity story, explain the significance of this, reminding them of the Holy Eucharist. The gospel begins:

"In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town. And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child."

2. "Tea from the Innkeeper" (Lk. 2.)

Bethlehem was crowded, and there was no room for Joseph and Mary in the Inn. Taking pity on the young couple, the innkeeper allowed them to take shelter in a cave used by animals. Tea represents warmth, hospitality, and comfort, and so, as we pour our tea, we remember the innkeeper who offered a humble roof to the blessed couple on that holy night.

3. "Sugar Cubes for Our Lady"

We call Our Blessed Mother "our life, our sweetness, and our hope." As we sweeten our tea, we are reminded of Our Lady's sweetness, the spotless whiteness of the refined sugar symbolizing her purity and innocence. The cubes dissolve in the hot liquid, just as Our Lady conformed herself completely to the Divine Will. Stirring the cubes into our tea, we repeat Mary's Fiat as proclaimed in the Angelus saying, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to Thy Word."

4. "Milk for St. Joseph"

Often, when we drink tea, it is hot and can burn our lips. The milk cools the tea and protects us, just as St. Joseph protected the Holy Family. It's pure whiteness reminds us that St. Joseph was a pure and just man.

5. "The Babe in the Manger" (Lk. 2: 6-7)

"While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn."

The manger was a place where animals ate, reminding us that our dear Lord provides food for our souls in the Holy Eucharist. The swaddling clothes prefigure the burial cloth that would be placed around Christ's body after the Crucifixion.

To assemble sweet mini-mangers, gather:

Waffle Bowls for ice cream (or individual graham cracker tart shells)
Ice cream or pudding
Toasted Coconut or shaved white chocolate (optional)
Pepperidge Farm "Gingerman" Cookies
Whipped Cream or Cool Whip
Necco Wafers (optional)
Decorator's gel icing (optional)

Put a scoop of ice cream or pudding into a waffle bowl, sprinkling toasted coconut or white chocolate shavings on top for hay. (In the photo, I used a mixture of white coconut and shaved milk chocolate, but white chocolate would be even better.) Nestle a Gingerman cookie in this "manger," tucking a yellow Necco wafer under its head for a halo. Dollop Cool Whip or Whipped Cream over the center of the body for "swaddling clothes," drawing a sweet little face and curl of hair with decorator's gel icing. As you will note from the photo, I used a graham cracker pie shell, but waffle bowls make even better mangers if you can find them at your local store.

6. "Shepherd's Staffs" (Lk. 2: 8.)

"Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock."

Hand each of the children a candy cane to represent the staffs of the shepherds. (These may be taken home or saved for later.) Teach the children of the spiritual significance of the candy cane. Each one reminds us that Jesus is the Good Shepherd. The red and white represent the blood and water from His side and, when turned upside down, the candy cane forms the letter "J."

7. "A Host of Angels" (Lk. 2: 9-20)

Hold a simple white tissue paper angel up for view as you tell about the angel who first came to the shepherds. Then, just before you say, "[a]nd suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying: 'Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests,'" ask the children to peek under their plates or placemats. There they will each find a simple tissue paper angel with the words "Glory to God in the Highest" emblazoned across the front. Have the children shout out the angels' message with joy while waving their special angels, "Glory to God in the Highest!" or "Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace to those on whom His favor rests!"

8. "Wise Mens' Gifts"

Tell or read about the gifts of the Three Wise Men, allowing the children to take turns opening three beautifully wrapped gifts for the Baby Jesus they will find in the center of the table. In the first box, representing "Gold," put money gathered for the poor or for your parish. (This is especially effective if the children have shared some of their Christmas money in advance.) The next box, representing "Frankincense," will contain a spiritual bouquet of prayers said by Mom and Dad on behalf of and in thanksgiving for these precious children. Ask the children to continue to "fill" the box with prayers throughout the month. The last box, representing "Myrrh," will contain a list of sacrifices or sufferings offered up for the Christ Child. If these were completed by Mom and Dad, ask the children to continue to fill the box during the month of January.

At the end of the Tea, process to your familiy's Nativity scene, presenting these three boxes to the Christ Child and adding the figures of the Wise Men to the creche if you have not already done so. If you decide to make this Tea a tradition in your home, it might be worthwhile to consider filling the Three Wise Men's boxes as an activity throughout Advent or during the Twelve Days of Christmas.

_______

Christmas and Epiphany Tea Shopping List

Tea
Milk
Sugar cubes
Bread or rolls
Butter
Waffle bowls for ice cream (or individual graham cracker tart shells)
Ice cream or pudding
Toasted Coconut or shaved white chocolate (optional)
Pepperidge Farm "Gingerman" Cookies
Whipped Cream or Cool Whip
Necco Wafers (optional)
Decorator's gel icing (optional)
Candy canes

Other items you will need:

White tissue paper to create simple angels (The great thing about tissue paper is you can cut out several at once.)
Pen or marker for writing "Glory to God in the Highest"
Three wrapped boxes containing money for the poor, prayers, and sacrifices as described above

May God continue to bless you and your families during this holy season!

Missing Christmas

Agnes wrote this poem today:

The Christmas tree was taken down
At ten o'clock last night,
I'll miss its glowing ornaments,
I'll miss its radiant light.
The Wise Man that I bought for mom,
The little stable, too,
The pleasant little manger scene
I've grown accustomed to.
Gone are the days of my piano
Playing "We Three Kings,"
The pageants and the evergreen,
I'll miss these little things.
But God has given us a Son
To help us here on earth,
Our joy should not be any less
The month after His birth.
And though the ornaments are packed
We shall not shed a tear--
For Christ is still beside us now
To guide us through the year.

An Epiphany

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can give Him: give my heart.

From "In the Bleak Mid-Winter" by Christina Rossetti, 1872

***

Eleven-year-old Agnes was disappointed. Her absolutely perfect, couldn't-be-better, just-what-Mommy-needed, Christmas gift turned out to be something a bit different from what she had thought. Different, yet better, in my opinion, although it took me twelve days to understand why. I suppose I'd better backtrack a little.

Each year our family begins Advent by choosing secret Kris Kindles--individual family members for whom we pray throughout the month, shower with good deeds, and eventually surprise with a $5 token present on Christmas Eve. Secrecy in this is so vital that, this year, through a mutual agreement, we banned the use of affectionate notes. Too many perfectly good covert operations were blown last year by our instant recognition of one another's handwriting.

A few days before Christmas, I took the children for our long-anticipated yearly shopping trip. Armed with five dollars a piece, my little consumers did surprisingly well. It was not until Christmas Eve that I discovered exactly how well--a plastic bowling set for Patrick, a squishy frog and stickers for Theresa, a miniature snow scene for Marie, a porcelain angel for Agnes, and so much more--trinkets for each and every member of the family. These simple gifts were met with enthusiasm and delight with everyone talking at once about whether they had suspected all along, good deeds done in secret, near misses or slips of the tongue caught in time, and reasons for the selection of certain gifts.

After a while, only one gift remained to be opened. It was slightly larger than the rest and wrapped a bit more elegantly. Agnes lifted it gingerly from under the tree and presented it to me as if she would burst if I waited even another moment to open it. I told her honestly that I had not suspected a thing about her identity and tore open the wrapping to discover the beautiful figure of a single Wise Man. "It's the best one," Agnes explained before I could say a word, "the one who brings baby Jesus Gold. I knew you needed Wise Men for the Nativity Scene, and I hope you like this one!"

Indeed, my girl knew well what I would like and need. Our Nativity Scene is lovely, a small Hummel set begun for us by my parents a dozen or so Christmases ago. It contains a German looking Holy Family, with a beautiful Madonna and an Infant Jesus who reminds me strikingly of any one of my own little ones. A small trumpeting angel heralds the arrival of the Christ Child, while a serene lamb, obedient donkey, docile cow, and richly bedecked camel look on. Each figure is a work of art, and my parents spent over a decade generously adding to our lovely collection.

Alas, however, this particular collection was discontinued a while back, and we have had no new additions in some time. As it is, our set is lovely with the Holy Family surrounded by animals, but Agnes has always been bothered by that camel. Resplendent in rich cloth and finery, this is no ordinary stable brute settling down for its evening meal, but a noble animal meant to be ridden by kings. With a saddle and packs obscuring his single hump, he appears as if he only just arrived, and one cannot help but look about for his owner. Every year, at some point, Agnes would get around to observing this, vowing to save up for the Wise Men to complete the scene and explain the presence of that well-groomed camel. True to her word, this was the year for our camel to meet his master.

I was speechless and lifted the figure out of its box with care. Bits of shredded newspaper fell out, only to be taken up by the baby and tossed with about with glee. Our Wise Man, though not a Hummel, was certainly not out of place either. With his steel grey beard, royal blue fabric mache cloak, and sparkling golden crown, he looked indeed like the rider of our fine camel, and when placed next to the lonesome animal, he seemed made for just that.

Agnes could plainly see my delight and hurried to explain. It seems the Wise Man was on sale at our local Christmas store. Originally $15.95, this last piece to a sold out set was 50% off on the day of our shopping trip. He cost a bit more than our predetermined price limit of $5, but Agnes thought, for a gift so perfect, no one would mind her spending her own money to make up the difference. Best of all, she announced, he was the first Wise Man, bringing the gift of Gold to the newborn King. If we only could have one of the trio for now, this would be the best.

As eager as we were to introduce our gold laden visitor to the Holy Family, we placed the figure far away from our creche on the other side of the room. Baby Jesus, after all, had only just taken his place in the manger for Christmas Eve, and we knew our representative of the Magi would need to follow the Star to Bethlehem until the glorious Feast of the Epiphany. Agnes happily planned to move him a little each day, gradually helping him to reach this important goal. With his determined gaze and jeweled box, he reminded me a bit of Agnes herself, happy to have found just the right gift and very eager to see it opened.

That night, before bed, we tidied up the living room. Wrapping paper and boxes were everywhere in spite of the simplicity of the gifts. The cardboard box I had opened earlier laid sideways on the floor, more shredded newspaper protruding from its open lid. In spite of my mad dash to clear the room, I decided not to discard the box, hoping to use it to pack my treasure away safely during the long months before Christmas of 2006. Agnes was glad when I told her my intent to save it, and stopped for a moment to glance at it with me. In the store, with Mommy seeming to pop up around every corner, she had not had time to examine the box and had rushed her purchase directly to the register, begging the sales clerk to secret it in a bag right away. This was really the first chance she had had to read it and examine the pictures. The box showed an image of our now familiar royal blue and red figure, along with the other statues available in the set. "MELCHIOR," it said, as if quoting the Wise Man himself, "I CONSIDERED MANY THINGS: ROBES, FINE CLOTHING, EVEN LANDS FROM MY OWN KINGDOM, BUT NO GIFT SURPASSES GOLD, THE MOST PRECIOUS OF ALL METALS FITTING FOR THE KING OF KINGS." Oddly enough, however, this bold statement did not seem to go with the picture of our Wise Man. As we looked carefully, it became clear that our figure was matched with the statement, "CASPAR--I WILL BRING FRANKINCENSE, A RARE AND PRECIOUS INCENSE MADE FROM RESIN OF THE BOSWELLIA TREE. IT IS THE FINEST BURNING INCENSE IN THE WORLD, ONLY A FINE INCENSE FOR ONE WHO IS SENT BY GOD."

Reading over my shoulder, Agnes instantly had the same realization I had. Our Wise Man was not bringing Gold at all, but Frankincense. Right there in black and white Melchior had gloated that "NO GIFT SURPASSES GOLD," leaving our poor Caspar holding the consolation prize, Frankincense, destined to be consumed by fire. A cloud of disappointment drifted across Agnes' face, and I could read in her features a thought that the perfect gift was somehow diminished, along with the realization that nothing could be done about it now--our Caspar had been the sole survivor of an apparently successful clearance sale and could not be exchanged.

At that moment, I said what I could to make her understand how much I loved my particular Wise Man and would not have preferred his gold-giving companion. Besides, I reasoned, the figure of Caspar is better looking than Melchior, and he is standing in a way that is far better for leading our camel. She seemed comforted, if not entirely convinced, and, not being one to brood too long, she went upstairs to bed, looking almost as content as she had been before.

***

Caspar completed his trek today, and his quietly determined face seems satisfied to have reached the creche. Though not out of proportion, he towers a bit over gentle Joseph, looking every inch the worldly king, a bit out of place in a humble stable, yet more than willing to leave his usual splendid surroundings to greet the King of Kings. Having had Twelve Days of Christmas to reflect upon Agnes' thoughtfulness, I feel more certain than ever that our Wise Man, with his gift of Frankincense, was truly the *one* to have.

There are many symbols associated with the gifts of the Wise Men to our Blessed Lord. Gold, among other things, represents His everlasting kingship, and is always a symbol of Joy and Happiness. Frankincense symbolizes prayer rising up to God, constantly leaving the hearts of mankind to be placed before His holy throne. Myrrh represents sorrow, the death Our Savior willingly took upon Himself to redeem us and free us from the despair sin had introduced into the world. Each of these gifts is fitting and necessary in its own way. As Catholic Families, and particularly as Catholic Home Educating Families, we unite with the Wise Men in offering our gifts to the newborn King. At the foot of the manger we place our Golden moments of Joy, and at the foot of the cross we offer the bitter Myrrh of our struggles and sorrow. All the while, as we guide our children, our prayers of Thanksgiving, Petition, and Praise rise like Frankincense to Heaven, reminding ourselves and telling the Child Jesus that all we do, we do for Him.

Not long ago, my daughter Marie asked me to explain the meaning of her name. Most baby name books give the definition, "bitter," and this is indeed true, but I found one definition for my daughter's name that struck me in its beauty: "Mary: Incense rising up to God." Our Blessed Mother's life, like her name, was often bitter, yet it was an unceasing prayer as well. She was indeed a living incense rising up to God, constantly offering her joys and pain and never failing to unite herself with her beloved Son. So pleasing was this to Him, that her life of prayer and contemplation has become the perfect model for us.

This Epiphany, I am happy to have a figure of Caspar and his gift of Frankincense to remind me that our lives, like our Blessed Lady's, should be a constant prayer rising up to God, drawing ourselves and our families ever closer to that blessed Babe in the Manger.