That famous first line of Clement Moore’s poem—a line so familiar that it has replaced the original title, “A Visit from St. Nicolas,” in the popular imagination — is all about the surprise visit of Santa Claus. At the risk of mixing the visit of St. Nick with the real reason for Christmas, the birth …
“C’mon over here and lookie,” I said, scooping up my three-year-old granddaughter, Noah Kate, in my arms and walking to the bookcases in our living room. “Wanna see Santa Claus?” Clinging to me, she studies the black-and-white photo, older than the years she can imagine. “That’s me, your PopPop,” I explain, placing my index finger …
The wipers swished back and forth, on high speed, struggling to sweep the pouring rain from the car’s windshield. I squinted at the road ahead, careful to avoid hydroplaning. “Remind me, whose idea it was to travel to Tennessee for my birthday?” I sarcastically asked after we had stopped for a coffee break, the rain …
Got that naughty-or-nice list out? Ready to keep score? After all, Christmas is only a few weeks away. How about doing something revolutionary this Christmas season? How about replacing that naughty-or-nice list on the refrigerator with something else? Why not place a portrait of Johann von Staupitz there instead? Johann who? Okay, I admit, I …
Sometimes, parents don’t know if they’ve done the right thing. The anxiety that accompanies that uncertainty doesn’t simply go away because the children are grown and gone. The affirmations we sometimes anticipate in making sacrifices may not be readily felt or observed. No parenting manual eliminates the possibility of self-doubt. We can only do what …