Little Miracles

by Lorna Kerin Beall

Over the years I’ve heard many Christmas stories regarding children that touched my heart. One was from my friend Jeanette. She told me about a special Lutheran Tenebrae (Candlelight) Service that she attended with her daughter’s family. Our Lutheran churches can be a bit more formal with our liturgy; beautiful and worshipful though it is. The sanctuary was darkened as the first awe-filled parishioner’s candle was lit. He began to pass the glowing light to the next person in the hushed silence. But no one was filled with more wonder than Jeanette’s toddler grandson! He suddenly burst out singing a joyful “Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday, Dear Jesus, Happy Birthday to you.” Jeanette didn’t know whether to hush him or hug him. Afterwards, she wished she’d joined him. And do you know what? I wish I’d been there too.

Another story that I love was told to me by my dear friend, Ruth Amos, who went to be with her loving Savior this past year. Ruth was kind of like me, always wanting her Christmas decorations to be a bit better. (I’m famous for having a “Charlie Brown Christmas Tree.”) This particular year, she felt she succeeded. She had purchased a “Precious Moment’s Manger Scene” in all its glory. She took special pains as she arranged each lovely piece in what she considered its ideal place, down to the last sweet little lamb.

Even though things were hectic as she prepared for the Christmas festivities, she couldn’t resist going back every so often for a sneak peek. But one time she was aghast! Not one precious piece was left in its perfect place. And the culprit was nearby. It was her five year old Grandson.

“Brandon!” she cried. “You messed up my manger scene.”

“No, Granny,” he said, teary-eyed. “I fixed it.”

As Ruth looked closer, she saw that indeed he had. Each cow, sheep, shepherd, king or angel was in a circle looking at, and adoring, the One in the middle: the Baby Jesus. She grabbed little Brandon up in a tender hug. “It’s perfect, sweetheart. Just perfect.” And it was.

This Christmas time may we join these sweet children in saying, singing and showing the tiny Christ child that we wish Him a joyous “Happy Birthday!”

Little Things 

Little things make me happy. 

Little things you know. 

Little things make me happy

Set my life aglow.

Little Baby Jesus 

Come down from above. 

Live Baby Jesus

Divine Act of love. 

A little smile on his face when I'm near

A little love in his heart is so clear. 

Little things make me happy. 

Little things you know. 

Little things make me happy

Set my life aglow.

(a song Jana wrote when she was little.) 

Nana's Last Home-cooked Christmas

Sharing Cousin Mindy's Christmas Remembrances

Nana's eyes light up brighter than any tree or ornament.

1996. This was Nana's very last Christmas in the comfort of her own home in Fairgrove, Missouri, with all of her loving family around to support her. There was a thin blanket of snow on the ground, the air had a wintry quality to it; no doubt this was Christmas.

At Nana's Christmas Day meal, she always made everyone's favorite dishes: a crockpot of baked beans, her homemade chicken dumpling stew, pumpkin and apple pie, fudge… My cousin Lonny parked himself by the baked beans and hovered. She home cooked everything, which meant a bit of elbow grease and a lot of love went into every plateful. There was always a strong link between her food and the love she gave.

This Christmas wasn't just about a meal though; this year had a special meaning about it. When it got dark outside, it came time to listen to her old Christmas albums and for the kids to unwrap their gifts. Seeing this always made Nana's eyes light up brighter than any tree or ornament.

When the family gathered round to take Christmas photos, something strange showed up in them. In each picture (taken by me) was a light mist that hovered around the person in it, almost clinging to their happy, cheerful auras. This was an especially odd occurrence, seeing as Nana was very in touch with her soul. This, in my eyes, proved a couple of things I had long thought about Nana. One being that she was, in fact, very spiritual. Nana always had her brothers and sisters around...either in flesh or spirit. I used to catch a glimpse of them around when my guard was down. Almost as if the mist in the pictures was an old friend and they were just chatting about days past. The other thing it proved was that no matter what was going on, what downfalls or uprisings come, that none of these things mattered to her as long as she could celebrate with her family on Christmas.

A Very Blessed Christmas,
Mindy Beall Fitch

Nissa-Nassu

In my work-in-progress children’s pioneer novel, “The Wormy Bean Winter,” six-year old Emmi tells two-year-old Sunni about Aunt Riika’s famous Nissa-Nassu (Finnish Christmas Piggy Cookies) that they always have at their aunts for Thanksgiving. This results in their saying the name both forward and backwards, "Nassu-Nissa...Nissa-Nassa," as well as much noisy “oinking” and even noisier giggling!

Jana attempted to nurture her Finnish heritage by making Piggy Cookies for Christmas.

In the photo they did look “piggy.” (Messy like pigs anyway!), due to coloring the frosting with some seedy raspberry jelly or something to make them pink!  I’m sure they were delicious. And I admire her spirit in fostering our Finnish traditions.

Happy Holidays!

Lorna Kerin Beall

Note from Jana: Inspired by my mom's story, I decided to try my hand at Finnish Piggy Cookies. Dan combined the Finnish tradition of baking ginger cookies with his own love of local Tohono O'odham heritage ingredients by making yummy mesquite-ginger cookies. Unfortunately, the piggy shape and ginger-mesquite taste was covered by the raspberry frosting. I didn't have a pig cookie cutter so I cut out circles and sculpted piggy ears, snout, legs and tail with my fingers. I made another cookie of a piggy face with a raised snout. They sorta looked like pigs until I put the speckled pink frosting on them. I tried making eyes with little dollops of white icing and a shiny round sprinkle. When I applied black eye lasses on it, Dan's mom exclaimed, "Oh! It's a face!" 

Heirloom Traditions

Our little "Tree of Life" represents our relationship. Can it withstand the weight of our first Christmas? 

Traditions are like heirlooms handed down by families through generations: trimming the tree, sending Christmas cards, favorite holiday treats, singing Christmas carols, hanging lights, going to Christmas Services, and the big family dinner.

Are family traditions worth the time and effort? Actually, the busier we get, the more important it is to hold onto them. Traditions help us stay connected to lost loved ones, ethnic heritage, religion, family, and friends.

One vanishing tradition is sending Christmas cards. I remember looking up in wonder at Mom's many Christmas cards hanging from a red ribbon.  This year I got five cards. Five! For years I sent newsletters sharing our family story to keep distant friends and relatives in the loop. But now I can’t seem to find the time. Instead I post Christmas greetings on Facebook and find personalized memes for friends. (I sent a Finnish Christmas stamp meme to my cousin and a Christmas gnome to my sister.) The great thing about sending cards is that it keeps us connected to distant family and friends.

This year we combined new technology with old. We took a photo with our cell and created the card on the computer.

Another tradition is holiday baking. Sure, it’s easier to buy cookie-cutter perfect cookies from the bakery, but what are we missing?  When I mix up a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookie dough, it brings back warm memories of making cookies with our mom, with all of us kids waiting around to lick the bowl. What better way to spend precious time with your family. This year we added a cookie decorating party to our traditions and shared a delightful afternoon with friends.

The "Cookie Queen" reigns over her subject.

Dan and I are spending our first Christmas together. After our Thanksgiving fiasco caused by warring traditions (when the words, “Scott doesn’t do that,” were uttered); Dan and I discussed how we can better handle the holidays. We have decided to meld our traditions and make some of our own. We’ll open our presents on Christmas Eve (my tradition) and eat tamales (Dan’s tradition). Today we were googling new Finnish recipes (reflecting my ethnic heritage.) We got a good laugh at the Finnish comfort food (don’t ask me how to pronounce it) nakkikastike – hot dog sauce! Lol! (I also posted the picture on my mom’s Facebook page – along with a squeaky cheese recipe (leipajuusto) that mom mentions in, “Model-T Biscuits.”) For the first time, we will be making Finnish cardamom coffee cake and coffee for breakfast Christmas morning.

To deal with the addition of two cats in the house (Dan's), we decided to forgo a traditional Christmas tree (Jana's). I realized that the part I would miss the most were our sentimental ornaments and lights reflected in shiny red and gold bulbs.  So we decorated a pole over the sliding glass door (Dan called it our festivus pole) and hung the boys' baby ornaments on our tree lamp.

One reason we hold onto Christmas traditions is to recreate the magical memories we experienced as children. A favorite memory was going Christmas caroling with our church youth group. I loved belting out Christmas songs until my throat was raw. My ex and I recreated that magic by hosting popular Christmas Sing-a-long parties. But trappings of those parties - the song books, candles (lit during Silent Night) and jingle bells have been packed away in the shed ever since my eldest son became an atheist.

Another cherished tradition was to make Nana’s chicken soup with homemade noodles.  Carrying on that tradition, I can feel her presence as the noodle dough sticks to my fingers. This year I saved time by using roasted chicken and broth in the chicken soup. And I still got to make the homemade noodles (the part that made her soup special.)  I imagine Nana is looking down and shaking her head in distaste. 

One way to make traditions last is to simplify them. Mom calls me every year to ask for my easy fudge recipe. We set out several fun ingredients (marshmallows, Reese’s Pieces, coconut, nuts, raisins, etc.) and the boys come up with their own creations.

It is so easy and fun that it's become a Christmas tradition. Here's the recipe if you'd like to try it...

JANA’S EASY FUDGE

3 cups chocolate chips

1 can sweetened condensed milk

1 tablespoon butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

Put all the ingredients in a microwave-safe bowl, microwave for two minutes (stirring after one minute and at the end), and spread onto a greased cookie sheet (or into a giftable mug) and refrigerate. Easy!

Why is it as we get older we care more about Christmas traditions? We long for that connection with our past and the joys of our youth. 

Have a Merry Christmas full of heirloom traditions!

Jana

Little Miracles

by Lorna Kerin Beall 

In past years one of my favorite things to do was to write a Christmas poem or story, some that have been graciously published. One of my favorites was published in The Lutheran Witness a couple of years ago. It was about my little mentally challenged Sunday school student, Theresa, who tore everything she touched. She tore not only her lesson paper but even the paper on her crayons causing many supposedly black puppy dogs or cows to turn out a surprising purple. At snack time Theresa even tore her paper cup, drizzling colorful (and sticky!) Kool Aid everywhere.

We were doing the Christmas story in flannel graph and each child was to put a beautiful and beloved pastel character on the flannel board. I couldn't help but wonder what I’d do about Theresa. Before long however, I was caught up in this lesson of God’s love, and in the joy of the children as they slapped each picture up with exuberance. But all too soon we were to the most wonderful picture of all, the baby Jesus – and to the last child – Theresa.

I held the fragile picture of the little pink Baby in my hand, imagining the children’s hurt cries if Theresa should tear it. Before I could change my mind, I thrust it towards her. Slowly, wide-eyed with wonder, Theresa took the picture of the Baby. She gently touched Him with her tiny finger. Then she began fingering the edges of the soft velour picture. I knew what would come next: the tearing.

But Theresa drew the baby Jesus to her lips and kissed Him. Then she patted Him gently in place on the flannel-board. I knew I’d witnessed a little Christmas miracle. And since then, I've often been inspired by some child’s simple faith. Like last year during our church Candlelight Service. When the first candles were lit a tiny 2-year-old boy in the congregation burst out singing, “Happy birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday Dear Jesus, Happy Birthday to you.”

This Christmastime may we join him, and other sweet children, in singing or saying: “Happy Birthday, Jesus!