Gerry
12-21-2007, 09:51 PM
I heard an old man tell a story of what his mother did when she was a small child. From what I heard I pulled this piece together.
Angela's family didn't have much in the way of money but when it came to love they were millionaires. There tiny three bedroom house had no heating other than the range in the kitchen that they could only afford to light sometimes. Their family of ten children wasn't big for their street.
It was coming up to Christmas and Angela's favourite doll went missing, as it usually did the week before Santa was due to come. When she woke on Christmas morning it was so cold there was ice on the inside of the windows in their house but she didn't feel the cool from the lino shoot through her tiny thin body as she rushed down stairs to see if he had come.
She rushed into the kitchen and there were the ten socks hanging on the dryer over the range. The kitchen was warm that morning and as her Mammy lowered the drying rack from high up on the ceiling she was excited to see her favourite doll had returned but was wearing a beautiful knitted dress. It was powder blue, like that old jumper Mammy was ripping out a few weeks before.
Everyone of them got something. Even the boys who had been bold got some toy from Santa. He must not have seen them being bold she thought. Soon they were all washed and scrubbed and off to Mass through the slushy snow. It was wet and dirty and cold and jucky.
The chapel was all decorated for the baby Jesus's birthday Mammy told them and after mass they all were taken over to the crib in the corner to see the plaster figures of all the animals that shared their bed with the Baby Jesus. The candles flickered and the music played but Angela thought the tiny Baby Jesus looked so cold. He was laying there on the straw just in his nappy. He didn't even have a vest to wear. His Mammy and Daddy must have been even poorer than us she thought.
Come the following Sunday as the family all trooped into Mass the Priest glared at them all as he spoke of the terrible crime that had been committed. The sanctity of the Chapel had been desecrated by a thief. Worse than a thief that stole from hunger this thief stole from hatred. The thief hated the Baby Jesus and all he stood for. The Bishop had been informed and the police had been called in . This scandal had to be resolved.
Angela's bright red face gave away her secret as her Mammy marched her home to begin the interrogation. It didn't have to last long before Angela admitted she was the thief. The Baby Jesus was quickly found safely wrapped in a spare towelling nappy and snugly sleeping under the blankets at the bottom of Angela's bed.
But Mammy he looked so cold in the straw I was just trying to warm him up until the snow melted.
By Gerry Temple
Angela's family didn't have much in the way of money but when it came to love they were millionaires. There tiny three bedroom house had no heating other than the range in the kitchen that they could only afford to light sometimes. Their family of ten children wasn't big for their street.
It was coming up to Christmas and Angela's favourite doll went missing, as it usually did the week before Santa was due to come. When she woke on Christmas morning it was so cold there was ice on the inside of the windows in their house but she didn't feel the cool from the lino shoot through her tiny thin body as she rushed down stairs to see if he had come.
She rushed into the kitchen and there were the ten socks hanging on the dryer over the range. The kitchen was warm that morning and as her Mammy lowered the drying rack from high up on the ceiling she was excited to see her favourite doll had returned but was wearing a beautiful knitted dress. It was powder blue, like that old jumper Mammy was ripping out a few weeks before.
Everyone of them got something. Even the boys who had been bold got some toy from Santa. He must not have seen them being bold she thought. Soon they were all washed and scrubbed and off to Mass through the slushy snow. It was wet and dirty and cold and jucky.
The chapel was all decorated for the baby Jesus's birthday Mammy told them and after mass they all were taken over to the crib in the corner to see the plaster figures of all the animals that shared their bed with the Baby Jesus. The candles flickered and the music played but Angela thought the tiny Baby Jesus looked so cold. He was laying there on the straw just in his nappy. He didn't even have a vest to wear. His Mammy and Daddy must have been even poorer than us she thought.
Come the following Sunday as the family all trooped into Mass the Priest glared at them all as he spoke of the terrible crime that had been committed. The sanctity of the Chapel had been desecrated by a thief. Worse than a thief that stole from hunger this thief stole from hatred. The thief hated the Baby Jesus and all he stood for. The Bishop had been informed and the police had been called in . This scandal had to be resolved.
Angela's bright red face gave away her secret as her Mammy marched her home to begin the interrogation. It didn't have to last long before Angela admitted she was the thief. The Baby Jesus was quickly found safely wrapped in a spare towelling nappy and snugly sleeping under the blankets at the bottom of Angela's bed.
But Mammy he looked so cold in the straw I was just trying to warm him up until the snow melted.
By Gerry Temple