For most of us, the holidays are a time of traditions, when memories of past celebrations help frame our present rituals, and “do you remember” is a big part of dinner conversation.
As an only child living in upstate New York, my memories of Christmases past always include a quiet morning with my parents, opening gifts spilled out from under an artificial tree decorated with the biggest lights I can remember, wrapped in garland and weighed down with silver icicles. By today’s standards, it might have been garish, but then it was wondrous.
We visited family to “see their tree” and sit around the table and eat … and talk. I do not remember exchanging gifts, probably because the talking and sharing food was the most meaningful part of the day. When we returned home, we arranged our opened gifts neatly under the tree and left them there for several days. Each time we entered the living room, it was like Christmas day all over again.
I remember needing to shovel snow from the driveway, hot chocolate, and Mamool, a Syrian pastry made with cream of wheat and groundnuts, and I remember a few favorite gifts – like the guitar my parents hid in the coat closet, my first transistor radio and my powder blue ice skates.
But the most memorable gift, and continues to make a difference in my life even today, was a set of large, beautifully illustrated books of Old and New Testament stories, books of memories of both the Hebrew and Christian people.
The stories and colorful prints that accompanied them introduced me to King Solomon, who wisely settled an argument between two mothers claiming the same baby by suggesting the child be divided in half and shared. The real mother quickly became apparent as she offered to give up her child to save his life.
I came to know Daniel, who survived the lions’ den through God’s intercession and saw the Tower of Babel fall as humanity strived to become like God. However, the story that most fascinated me was Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego – the three young men who survived being thrown in a fiery furnace because an angel of the Lord walked with them in the fire.
Like so many figures in Scripture, these were people through whom God carried out his work, whose faith in God gave them life, made them strong and resilient, with an ability to transform others. So when I first encountered Jesus in the sacraments, classroom, and Scripture, I recognized in him those who had come before him. In those memories, I also recognized whom I was supposed to be.
Pope Francis has said, “Memory makes us draw closer to God. The memory of that work which God carried out in us, in this recreation, in this regeneration that takes us beyond the ancient splendor that Adam had in the first creation.”
The Holy Father calls us to consider always, “What’s my life been like, what was my day like today or what has this past year been like? (It is all about) memory. What has my relationship with the Lord been like? Our memories of the beautiful and great things that the Lord has carried out in the lives of each one of us.”
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.