Christmas Wedding

After the ceremoney at St.Anthony Fairfield CT - at Frederick's Reception also in Fairfield, CT 12-17-66

December 17th 1966 - years of longing, and work and learning and more work and finding the moment of love forever born and winning through to this day!

At least for our children, long ago grown and living distantly with fine work and loves of their own I will share this "part one" of THE story of how we met and married.  It was all so grand to us, and a gift of empowering love is their birthright!  

But that's another story. More will come.

Our Christmas wedding turned out to be the Army's idea, and a lovely one!  We were a 'love at first sight" pair - the happy result of long dreams and preparation and long prayed-for. We'd dated for nearly two years and we found it easy to talk about everything:  there were no impediments to a bright future together.  As often happens, once engaged,  the planned date of 1969 , worked perfectly at first - his end of service sync-ed with  my graduation from college - yes!    But "Plan A" had to be dropped due to illness and financial setbacks to some of the top players in our lives - not a worry! The wedding date was accelerated to December 17th, 1966 at Christmas leave.  Even better! This meant we could be together as Commissioned Officer and Officer's wife and I could help Red Cross.  Of course, we were in a time of changes for us - some of which were not of our making and not of our desiring. But overall, such things were not a major obstacle. We were fine and families and legalities were pleased with us -  happy.

I look back and think, "Gosh, we were brave!"   We all had fine schools and fine studies and yet we were young, untried, new at adult life in any form, and that day, soon all off to war, and war is death!     I remember the intense joy at our love and anguish for his survival in VietNam - competing for my emotions, love won that day.

We grew up on John Wayne patriotism and were sickened and undermined by the unpopularity of this war.  But, just for now, even death had only limited powers in the face of our love!  We knew we'd come "Shining through" and we did.  War presented  opportunities to serve one another AND our country and community and family, too.

 In addition to the war to threaten this time of love's commitments, Mother and Dad were dealing with health and money issues , but they were the best, and so, cooking up a wedding helped everything !  

This wedding  project development was doing profoundly well at doing good in all ways.

In Fairfield, all  brides were in heaven !   If you grew up there, for a golden time you owned the town!   A blessed girlhood was paying off with a very happy start into adulthood!  Wedding social and fashion and mores abounded! l Rules - there were rules and one could experience lots of desireable extras if one bothered to seek and follow them.

 Young marriage is not really recommended, but we were were fine for it and it worked and lasted happily and successfully.  There was plenty of excitement to whittle the few pounds off for a very classy look for the pictures!   Happy cheat!   Money, reception, gifts, engraved invitations, flowers, and the people we loved!    Wardrobe?   My beloved "Nanna" a friend of the family was a designer and we had serious fun with it and the shop keepers in the NYC garment district treated us like visiting royalty one afternoon, shopping for the wedding gown fabrics.

We made a nice picture in our wedding things - My double-brocaded satin and faux white mink Christmas wedding gown and his  elegant  USACE Officers Uniform: oh yes!  It was going to be nice.

The day:   Everyone had  gone on to the church but the bride hung back for the classic "moment" on the threshold of her Father's house and stepping out over it to adulthood and  new life,  with a prayer for continued love for God and Man - especially one man!  Her Man!  The noise of war tried to crowd out the sweetness of the day and I recall ,saying silently to the heavens, " OHHHH NO YOU DON"T - not this day!  This day is not yours - it is our day."    

Snapped out of my reverie by a horn blast from my "carriage" ,  they promised to be going on to the church without me, if I did not come along as Dad did, to escort to me to Godfather Uncle Bill's long white car,   laughing that I'd miss my own wedding!   "Here comes the Bride!" , they called, laughing merrily,  then turned solemn,  as we approached the Church. The lovely vigil snowfall I'd hoped for had created the pretty scene and cleared,  and now it was the cool and crisp but sunny day!  Everything with the sparkling white coverlet and me afraid to own up to my own delight in it.

As we entered, it was clear that the arrangements  were being carried out really well: work was well done: all was ready and lovely, especially the hearts!  There for me was the church I helped fundraise for, festooned with flowers and ribbons all along my path;  and the people filled the pews.  There was my bridal party on ahead of me: maid of honor/cousin Betty; a sister of the groom, Mary; a best friend, my sister  junior bridesmaid in her first gown, Lorraine,  and  my boss' six-year-old,  our flower girl little Sandy.  
Waiting at the altar the groomsmen were a handome show,  in the classic line of duty: groom's brother the Best man, John Francis, in Naval Uniform, who almost took over the wedding when his Navy ship was delayed in docking and he had to make a wild dash racing down the aisle,to take his place on time;  next, in Morning coat, my brother, Rick, on his way to a green beret then red;  then Denny, a fellow officer from the groom's OCS ;  and for my kid sister, my groom's kid brother Terry !  Some guys!  I can be proud of them all to this day, thank goodness!

 My Father, almost ashen with solemnity, escorted me down the aisle and passed my hand to my soulmate's keeping, so handsome in his newly-commissioned USACE officer's uniform - lucky me  !  

Our priest at the service was a personal friend to my father-in-law, who'd studied for the priesthood himself, early on, then turned to accounting and law and many babies.  The vows:  It was time.  And we were ready and we were fine.  The event itself seemed to go too quickly, after all that preparation!

 But with rings and a kiss and a blessing and a song, and a full church giving a cheer, we were one! 

The Reception at THE place for it that year was dizzy, with two hundred in attendance,  but went very well, and soon we were at the Bridal Suite at the Hotel Americana in New York for the wedding night, and plane to Bermuda  in the morning!   We were just so happy to be "US" , we  enjoyed the beauties of the "eye- lahnd" and our time alone so lovely!   And when the Blizzard of '66 gave us an entire extra week at the Airline's expense - oh yes -  grand fun to be stranded on an island with one's one true love! What better start  - thank you, saints and angels!

Even a blizzard will clear  after a week, but homecoming would now be on New Years Eve and more fun, and then off to Fort Knox a few days later.  But that's another story.  

My wish for my newlywed children ?  Quote from a top pop film at the time:  "Gidget" - her Grandmother in the movie points to the family motto:  "Don't say that Love has been a disappointment to you ~  Don't you be a disappointment to Love ! " 

...easy, once you get the idea  

e.

Advent Wreath Explained - for the children

Blessed Childhood, especially at Christmastime, included Advent Wreaths and Calendars.  Happily Married with children later,  it was easy to carry on such glowing customs and fill the house with all the good things in preparation for the Winter Holiday ! 

The Advent Wreath is perfect for homes with young children, and if candles are a safety issue, you can get non-flaming ones, but I simply stay alert - they are lit, honored and then extinguished, always with adults present.   And  soon the children are old enough and  can even help light them - adding the appreciation of the children's growth to the event -  it is all symbols!  

Advent, itself is a commemoration of the ages and ages that mankind was urged to wait in darkness, and worked hard finding bits of the light to prepare for the Coming of the Messaiah -  at Christmas, through our sharing of Him in Communion , to the Parousia, or Second Coming , yet to be !  

The Advent Wreath as we know it today was the creation of a Priest in 1839, to help deal with wiggly little ones, enthusiastic for the coming of Christmas.    

At our home for over 40 years now, this wonderful permanent brass wreath is brought out and shined, and sometimes we add some evergreen boughs around it.    Our home  in those years was a true Holly House, surrounded by the shrubs -  since we'd begun our married life with  a Christmas Wedding - and this one has bells for berries, and one of the leaves snuffs the candles afterward.   It supports the Four candles lit at the four Sundays of Advent, in  certain order and at every suppertime with prayer.    

The Stag at the center holds the CHRISTMAS CANDLE, and both are symbols of the Christ.  The Candle is always large enough to be lit each day thru the Christmas holidays until the Epiphany on January 6th. It is always white and the wick always "virgin" - never lit before Christmas.  The Stag is  also a Jesus symbol, especially among Irish since the stag will route the Irish archenemy, snakes - along with the Irish icon, Saint Patrick;  "the Deers's Cry" his famous Lorica, calls to the symbol of the Christ - the stag.  

The Irish French and Polish American culture is ours and so we chose the style to suit it.   So think and have fun choosing ones that symbolize YOUR family's way.   

Next, after some prayer for guidance for a moment, look online for a nice presentation of Advent Wreath Prayers and Liturgy. This one is from Loyala Press

Gather your family at some regular time - before , during or after the evening meal, and at the first week of Advent, light only one of the purple candles....second week two purple candles, third week is Gaudete Sunday and so the two purple candles are now joined by lighting the pink or rose one...then finally at the Fourth Week of Advent all four candles - three purple and one rose are lit, and each evening the candles and prayer are offered to prepare for Christmas.   JUBILANT - the four candles are now taken away and the one large White candle in the center Reigns - The Savior Christ is Born and we celebrate in prayer and song and gifts and treats and fun social events and fine foods and more....until January 6th when the candle is put away and we thank God for one more Lovely Winter Holiday and its bounty of the spirit to warm us till Spring!     

There is the feeling of immersion in the spirit of the Birth of the Messiah and a beautiful sense of family spirit growth and faith formation...no matter the faith. Such traditions help us to develop a very special sense of the spirit, of  personhood and quality of life.  

The Candle set is found at churches and at Amazon for very little cash - the large white one I always buy specially - this one is beeswax and elegant, but any good white candle is fine - also the large broad pillar candles that stand alone - all that is important is that it be white and never lit before.   So you will want to use it up at special moments thru the year, so it is all gone by next Advent season.   

Elle

p.s. the pedestal is mine and unique - not required;  you can probably do a search for wizard pedestal and find some like it...... but to me it is a holyman and passionately supportive spirit - like Gandalf, Tim Cook from Apple and all Wizards who uphold the best.  

I bought it on impulse and am not silly, so I looked at it , wondering what I was going to do with it and it has been busy ever since. Not always lit...but....When Advent is done the Christmas Tree takes its place. My apartment sized tree is a dazzler and takes tending and delights me and never dies from house heat before the holiday is done !    But the pedestal then  gets set to one side till the next holiday - soon displaying a fancy Valentine, then the Easter Egg display and later flags and pumpkins.     LIFE - it's about life - and please enjoy my wish for a Happy Holiday to you.

How the Robin Got His Red Breast

Legend - fable - fiction - 2006 - from "A Christmas Stocking" by Louise Betts Egan


On that first Christmas, it is said, the night was wrapped in a bitter chill.  The  Newborn Baby sleeping, Mary resting, but the small fire in the stable was nearly out, Joseph had gone for food and the new Mother Mary worried that her baby would be cold.  She turned to the animals about her and asked them for help. 

"Could you blow on the embers," she asked the ox, "so the fire might continue to keep my son warm?" 

But the ox lay sound asleep on the stable floor and did not hear her.  Next, Mary asked the donkey, horse and the sheep to breathe life back into the fire, but the sleeping animals did not hear Mary.  She wondered what to do. 

Suddenly, Mary heard a fluttering of little wings. Looking up, she saw a plain, little brown robin fly into the stall.  This robin had heard Mary calling to the animals and had come to help her himself.  He went over to the dying fire and flapped his wings hard. 

His wings were like little bellows, huffing and puffing air onto the embers, until they glowed bright red again.   He continued to fan the fire, singing all the while, until the ashes began to kindle.   Next, with his beak, the robin picked up some fresh, dry sticks and tossed them into the fire.   As he did, a flame suddenly burst forth and burned the little bird's breast a bright red.   But the robin simply continued to fan the fire until it crackled brightly and warmed the entire stable.

The Baby Jesus slept happily.

Mary thanked the robin for all he had done.   She looked tenderly at his red breast, burned by the flame, and said  "From now on, let your red breast be a blessed reminder of your noble deed." 

And to this day, the robin's red breast covers his humble heart.
 

Krustiki - story and recipe

The Krustiki-making at Holidays!   The image is of the irons passed to me from my Mother, from her Polish-American Mother, and one day to my daughter. It's not just a treat - it's a statement of life and love.

As with many of the world's favorites, this treat is called by several names, & more than one country claims it for its own. In America today, we call them "Rosettes", and I also like the literal translation of krustiki, "little crusts" or cookies.

People refer to the collection of several other Polish cookies by the name, as well, including one that is also called Angel’s wings or one called Christmas babies. Photos follow here. Light, sweet, easy to make, although, our family favorite requires the “irons”, heated and dipped into batter and fastfried, and sugar-dusted, like those in the photo at left, often passed down through the generations.

Whatever the name, they are special!

The story through the years:

I ~ Krustiki ~ 1956          In childhood, I loved school - both the ones at Greenfield Hill  and beloved Saint Anthony's, which was not just school, but  generations after it was founded to help Polish-Americans learn perfect English and "be good Americans", the Saint Anthony’s Polish-American experience was a fine opportunity to learn and pass on my Mother's cultural favorites, as well. 

At Holidays , especially, I spent many happy hours, with the older women, learning and sharing the rituals, like the making of the delicate "Krustiki", meaning "Little Crusts".   Today, proudly, the stars,flowers & rounds are still made privately, in very special groups. 

The krustiki irons, passed on through generations of women, are brought out from wrappings, cleaned, attached to their handles, and set into pans of hot oil to heat. When all is ready, the hot iron forms are dipped in batter and oil till crisp - then cooled and dusted with confectioners sugar,  and the result is exciting!  Crispy, yet tender light and melt-in-the-mouth sweet and yet not too fattening. Oh yes! they were, and still are, a delight!  Such fun and then the irons carefully cleaned , oiled and wrapped and put away for the next time.  A worthy afternoon for a young girl - Strong, nice, kind, and perpetuating.

The mommies' approval and interest was so good for feelings of worth in a child. They cared, and so I cared. I felt there was symbolism in making the krustiki : Women, so delicate and lacy and yet strong as iron - easier to understand, while making krustiki!  We are batter in the hands of God, by whatever name you call Source of Life!  

Star-shaped Krustiki - super light and a airy and yet a satisfying treat to eat!

II ~ Krustiki ~ 1976         No act is really simple, and even the simplest tasks inspire complex thought.  With the Mothers and Aunties, I was learning the big lessons and was not afraid to think.  Working side-by-side, it was all easy. 

Years passed: growing up, I did fine in studies and truly blessed marriage and wonderful son and daughter!  Glad I worked and prayed and played and cared - my dreams came true, with work and love - and Motherhood of my own, with gifts to share!    Far away from 'roots' in every way, now it was not just pleasant, It was clarifying to do the krustiki-making on my own - it was so different and even more special. Connecting me in spirit,  with the Mothers and Aunties of my childhood, there was an overflow of happy love in the continuum.

My Mother visited often and the visits often included the special preparation of Krustiki, and now,my own daughter alongside us and joyfully, by her own preference! Exult!  To reward her interest... Not a word of teaching - "permissions" for her to enjoy and learn, as she pleased!

III ~ Krustiki ~ 1996          Time and time passing too swiftly! The family circle was growing up and well. Then My husband's sudden and early death Made the sweetness of empty-nesting not so easy.  Mother remained true when all lights failed due to the recession threatening nearly everyone. The lessons from those days with the "mommies" were MUCH  more than sweet recollections - but insurance policies that saved my soul when so severely stricken.

A reprise of girlhood Response work was considered a creative and classic choice to help grief recovery, and did, though it got important, became an adventure, including three kinds of rescue, and also American Red Cross, local and "away" work during Operation Desert Storm. And more - too much more.  I finally fell to injury and exhaustion.  Medical needs set up, I was relocated to the airy Connecticut Hills, near the lakes, rivers and waterfalls...a beautiful healing experience!     It worked partly because ethnic arts and crafts thrive there, and I was delighted to be asked to join in the seasonal group cooking of a few thousand  Krustiki, prepared by the Church as a fundraiser. 

Many of the women were seniors to me. Most of them did not know me.  Still, on the word of others, I was very kindly treated, and I reveled in the memories of similar times in girlhood.   I laughed at the anachronism of my "adventure boots" and promised daintier footwear next time.We worked in teams of two and I served as assistant at first; My partner wielded the irons, I was the tipper, flipper, tapper and drainer.  Another work team collected the completed crusts, sugaring, packaging and storing them till Bazaar time.

Now my senior partner, satisfied that I would not injure myself or anyone else, allowed me the lead task. I heated my iron, dipped it carefully into the batter, then into the hot oil and tended the twin krustiki  diligently. When they looked right, I eased them off the irons.  Pausing as the irons reheated, I glanced about and my partner who was staring at my work oddly. Why?  

My partner, mature and coolheaded, must have expected poor results from me, disabled, because  she stared wide-eyed at my "snappy" work, and then at me, and I quietly rejoiced in her respect, and the treasured secret smile for us both!  Or maybe it was just that is cool to Always wear world-class adventure boots when making krustiki?

IV~ Krustiki ~ 2016          And sharing this and its power to heal minor woes for its goodness.  It is still there - the glow of love created through such the "simple" tasks!  These words are a duty, a tour de force!  My Husband is gone long ago and fine and free again for a long time; but my Mother, 90 and in decline, no longer recognizes me and so, more than ever, these moments must be not be lost, I hope stories like this one bring a glow to all its readers. She passed away in December 2017 and yes…it is Christmas 2018 and the sorrow fading and rich and wonderful legacy remains!

These customs and creations make , in their making, life itself ! Gloria!

Praise for their maker and the Angels who seemed to bless us through it all!

---

The Rosette-shaped Krustiki, the best-known - they display so nicely- so light!

~ a popular krustiki recipe ~

Buy the Polish Rosette irons online in many forms and shapes - Amazon has them and many Polish wares stores online and off.

As with many of the world's favorites, this treat is called by several names,
& more than one country claims it for its own. In America today, we call them "Rosettes"
Or enjoy the literal translation, "little crusts".  Whatever the name, they are special! 

• krustiki or 'rosette" irons

• 2 eggs, slightly beaten

• 2 teaspoons sugar

• 1/4 teaspoon salt

• 1 cup milk

• 1 cup flour

• 1 tablespoon lemon extract ( vanilla or your preference is fine )

• confectioner's sugar for dusting finished cookies

Add sugar to slightly beaten eggs, then add milk.  Sift flour before measuring, then together with salt.  Stir into first mixture and beat until smooth (about the consistency of heavy cream).  Add flavoring. Fry as directed.

For extra nice Rosettes, allow batter to stand two hours covered in refrigerator before frying.

Caution: Do not do this with children until you have mastered it yourself.    

And later, When  there are children working with you, gently but firmly teach and stay aware that hot oil is HOT!   *** If you wash the irons immediately before cooking time, put them in a warm oven for a minute to dry thoroughly, or water in the crevices may cause the oil to spit and burn. Watch out for steam during cooking, too, and plan to test for the best temperature for the oil, and time in the oil, for a nice golden crust. 

...but, back to the fun!  Our church ladies group does up tons of them for fundraisers at our Christmas Bazaar.   They substitute the extract with some fine brandy or rum.....yum!......Theoretically, the alcohol evaporates during cooking, leaving only a special gentle flavor,  so they are safe for alcohol-restricted diets, but check ...The preparation can be more fun with this recipe :-)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UP0VKrfHdk     This video  is the closest to the Polish generations-old process that I could find.     May make my own video soon.    The video shows it is fun and simpler than you might imagine !   And worth the effort!

My commentary on this video:    

• Shows the double- headed irons, available online for purchase as "Rosette cookie irons"

• shows a very old sifter that I do NOT support - nice fresh clean sifter is safer

• shows the wonderful process JUST right, though, but

• does not show the optional turning with a cooking fork, in the oil to cook the white inside of the cookie - doughiness is fatal - crisp but not burned is key.

So, when the cookie looks almost done on the irons, take the fork and gently poke the cookie off the iron and over into the oil - let the cookie float in the oil, just a moment, till the white inside has crisped and then use the fork to remove the cookie to drain.

Takes a bit of practice and wearing cooking gloves if you fear you may splash.

"JingleBells" - the crisis!

Controversy over the origin of the Famous Winter Holiday Song

By RUSS BYNUM, Associated Press Writer

SAVANNAH, Ga.

- Dashing in the sun, through oaks and Spanish moss.

Sleigh riding's no fun, when there's no snow to cross.

Could "Jingle Bells" really be a song of the South?

It's not hard to see why balmy Savannah has a tough time selling the Christmas carol as a native creation.

Or why the claim makes folks in Medford, Massachusetts, hometown of the song's composer, cry "Humbug ! ". 

This much is known: James Pierpont was the organist at Savannah's Unitarian Universalist Church in 1857 when he copyrighted the song,  "One Horse Open Sleigh,"  a title later changed to  "Jingle Bells."   One of the most popular American Christmas songs,  "Jingle Bells"  made Pierpont a pre-Civil War one-hit wonder.   But did he write it here as a piece of homesick, holiday nostalgia?   Or did he compose it years before in Medford, not seeing the tune as a moneymaker until he drifted south?   "No one really knows where he was when he wrote it - that's the rub" ,  said Constance Turner,  Pierpont's great-granddaughter in Coronado, Calif.   "Evidently, James was quite the free-spirit and he published some bad songs and one, at least, we know of that's a very good song." 

Medford, just outside Boston, claimed the carol without challenge until 1969, when Milton Rahn, a Savannah Unitarian, announced he had linked the song's composer to Georgia. Rahn was listening to his daughter play "Jingle Bells" on the piano when he glanced at the sheet music and noticed the composer's name: J. Pierpont.   He had earlier found letters John Pierpont Jr., the church's pastor from 1852 to 1858, had written home to Medford saying his brother, James, had come to Savannah as an organist and music teacher.  Further research found the composer had married in Savannah in 1857 weeks before he copyrighted "Jingle Bells."   "I saw this as something to help us get publicity for the church,"  Rahn said. 

Pierpont, who lived from 1822 to 1893, was said to be a wanderer who ran away to sea at 14 and later went to California during the Gold Rush. During the Civil War, he joined a Confederate cavalry regiment in Savannah, bucking his family's staunch abolitionist views. Though Pierpont came from an aristocratic family - his nephew was the financier John Pierpont (J.P.) Morgan - he never made much money himself.   His other songs included several touting the Confederate cause, with titles such as "We Conquer Or Die" and "Strike For The South."   But none struck a chord like  "Jingle Bells." 

After Savannah erected a "Jingle Bells" marker across from the church in 1985, then-Mayor John Rousakis declared the tune a Savannah song.  To folks in Medford, that made Rousakis and Rahn a pair of grinches out to steal their Christmas history.   A series of not-so-jolly exchanges followed.   "In the words of Shakespeare, it is our intention to keep our `honor from corruption' ",  Medford Mayor Michael McGlynn wrote in a 1989 letter to Rousakis.  "We unequivocally state that `Jingle Bells' was composed ... in the Town of Medford during the year 1850!"   Rousakis fired back with an equally strong, unyielding letter.  "James L. Pierpont is still here with us,"  Rousakis wrote, noting the composer's Savannah burial.  "I am sure (Pierpont) will join us in spirit when we finally and formally proclaim Savannah, Georgia, as the birthplace of `Jingle Bells.'" 

According to Medford, Pierpont was inspired by the winter sleigh races down snow-filled Salem Street in Medford and wrote the song at the Simpson Tavern, a boarding house with the only piano in town.   Ace Collins, author of the 2001 book "Stories Behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas," says he found more proof of Medford being the rightful birthplace while researching his chapter on "Jingle Bells."   Collins said he found a New England newspaper from the early 1840s that mentioned "One Horse Open Sleigh" debuting in Medford at a Thanksgiving church service.   The song proved so popular, he said, Pierpont gave a repeat performance at Christmas.   When it comes to which city deserves bragging rights, Collins gets diplomatic.   Pierpont may have written his song in Medford, he says, but Savannah made him realize its universal appeal. "Savannah was the key," Collins said. "If it can play in Savannah, where snow was a novelty, it can play anywhere." 

On the Net: 

Unitarian Universalist Church of Savannah Georgia probable site of debut of "Jingle Bells" 

Medford Massachusetts birthplace of author of "Jingle Bells" 

Songwriters Hall of Fame ~ have fun finding the story behind other favorite songs, Holiday and "otherwise". 

The Twelve Days of Christmas Decoded

An Underground Catechism ~

You're all familiar with the Christmas song, "The Twelve Days of Christmas" I think. To most it's a delightful nonsense rhyme set to music. But it had a quite serious purpose when it was written. It is a good deal more than just a repetitious melody with pretty phrases and a list of unique gifts. 

Catholics in England during the period 1558 to 1829, when Parliament finally emancipated Catholics in England, were prohibited from ANY practice of their faith by law - private OR public. It was a crime to BE a Catholic.  "The Twelve Days of Christmas" was written in England as one of the "catechism songs" to help young Catholics learn the tenets of their faith.  It was used as a memory aid, when to be caught with anything "in writing",  indicating adherence to the Catholic faith, could be risking one's very life!  Church history includes many British Catholic martyrs for the faith during this era. 

The song's gifts are hidden meanings to the teachings of the faith. The "true love" mentioned in the song doesn't refer to an earthly suitor, it refers to God Himself. The "me" who receives the presents refers to every baptized person. 

"On the First day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, A Partridge in a Pear Tree"                 The partridge in a pear tree is Jesus Christ, the Son of God. In the song, Christ is symbolically presented as a mother partridge which feigns injury (since he rose from the dead) to decoy predators from her helpless nestlings, much in memory of the expression of Christ's sadness over the fate of Jerusalem: "Jerusalem! Jerusalem! How often would I have sheltered thee under my wings, as a hen does her chicks, but thou wouldst not have it so."     This opening symbolic reference  bewails the current persecution, and the desire to protect the faithful and tutor the "nestlings" - christian children.

The other symbols mean the following: 

2 Turtle Doves = The Old and New Testaments 

3 French Hens = Faith, Hope and Charity, the Theological Virtues 

4 Calling Birds = the Four Gospels and/or the Four Evangelists 

5 Golden Rings = The First Five Books of the Old Testament, the "Pentateuch", 

6 Geese A-laying = the six days of creation 

7 Swans A-swimming = the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, the seven sacraments 

8 Maids A-milking = the eight beatitudes 

9 Ladies Dancing = the nine Fruits of the Holy Spirit 

10 Lords A-leaping = the ten commandments 

11 Pipers Piping = the eleven faithful apostles 

12 Drummers Drumming = the twelve points of doctrine in the Apostle's Creed in P.S. below. 

-Paraphrased from -Fr. Hal Stockert 12/17/95 ( his version had to be cleaned up because his report of the persecutions  digressed into boyish delight in describing methods of torture....not really appropriate or inspiring. But no other changes made.) 

P.S. It has come to our attention that this tale is made up of both fact and fiction. But may it be  that this tale give  courage, and determination to use any creative means at one's disposal to keep one's faith alive.    Original resource: Copyright © 1987-2003 Catholic Information Network (CIN) - Updated: 12-26-03 

P.S.  RE: On the twelfth day of Christmas, my True Love gave to me, twelve drummers drumming.

The twelve drummers represent the twelve precepts of the Faith presented in the Apostle's Creed. The translation of the Creed given in the Catechism is given below.

1. I believe in God, the father almighty, Creator of heaven and earth.
2. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord.  
3. Who was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary 
4. suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. 
5. He descended into hell.
6. On the third day he rose again from the dead
7. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.  
8. He will come again to judge the living and the dead. 
9. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints
10. the forgiveness of sins
11. the resurrection of the body, and 
12. life everlasting. Amen.

You

You may not think the world needs you, but it does.  

You are unique,

like no one who has ever been before,

or will come after.  

No one can speak with your voice,

say your piece,

smile your smile or shine your light.  

No one can take your place, for it is yours alone to fill.  

 If you are not there to shine your light ,

who knows how many travelers may lose their way,

as they try to pass by your empty place in the Darkness.?

  

- credited to various authors

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POST SCRIPT:

The Story of "You" - and Me:  I have shared this here because it was a gift to me on a day when only Job had suffered more - and I felt there  was no "me" at all.    It helped - I am fine - and so it is here to help others, most truly!   

The Tablecloth - TrueYule loveStory

THE TABLECLOTH - true winter holiday story

The brand new pastor and his wife,  arrived in early October at Suburban Brooklyn, New York, newly assigned to their first ministry, to re-open a church  that was not in use,  very run down and needing much work.  Undaunted, they set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve 1970. 

They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls,  painting, and more.  It was December 18 and they were ahead of schedule and just about finished.  Then, on December 19,  a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm - hit the area and lasted for two days.  On the 21st, the pastor's heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 10 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor.  Prepared to postpone the Christmas Eve service,  he headed home.

On the way, he noticed that a local business was having a flea-market type sale for charity so he stopped in.  One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center.  It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall.   He bought it and headed back to the church.  By this time it had started to snow.  An older woman was running from the opposite direction,trying to catch a bus.  She missed it.  The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus, 45 minutes later.  She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. 

The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area !

Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle.  Her face was very pale.  "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?"   The pastor explained.  The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials,  "EBG" were crocheted into it there.  They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. 

The woman was stunned as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth.  The woman explained that before the war, she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria.  When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave.  Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again!

The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth;  but she made the pastor keep it for the church.

To thank her for her beautiful gift,  the pastor insisted on driving her home,  that was the least he could do.  She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a house-cleaning job.  He then hurried back to prepare for the evening's duties. 

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve!  The church was almost full.  The music and the spirit were great!  At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.  But one older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving.  The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall, because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago, when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike?

He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison.  He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between. 

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier.  He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and witnessed the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine! 

A True Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid