LEAD ARTICLE: FR. HOWE
“When the days grow shorter and shorter, when – in a normal winter – the first snowflakes fall, then quietly and softly thoughts of Christmas begin to surface, and from the mere word a certain magic exudes that affects every heart. Even those of other faiths, or of no faith at all, to whom the story of the Child of Bethlehem has no meaning, prepare for the feast and even make plans to convey its joy here or there. Months and weeks in advance, there flows a warmth like a stream of love over the whole world. A festival of love and joy – that is the star which beckons all humankind in the first winter months. For Christians, and especially for Catholic Christians, it is yet something else. The star leads them to the manger with the little Child who brings peace to the earth.”
--From a talk by Edith Stein, The Mystery of Christmas, 1931
“It was there again last night, my little friend of light. Had it begun its way On creation’s first day? Perhaps. Because in night’s deepest hush I felt our twain spirits brush.”
--Sr. Noel Landry, CGS
Some souls that we encounter during life are truly unforgettable and long after they are gone stir our hearts and memory. Sister Noel will always be one of those souls for me. She was an elderly Religious Sister of the Good Shepherd who I came to know in my high school years and whose very name reflected the sparkle of Christmas.
The poem that I share above is one of her original poems that she used to recite to me. Though I am almost certain it was never published, I have never forgotten its lines, because they spoke to me then and continue to speak to me now. I am proud to be able to share this little poem in gratitude for the friendship that I enjoyed with her and several other elderly sisters of the Good Shepherd where my mother worked as a nurse in their infirmary during my time in high school. They were formative visits, to say the least. Looking back I often muse on how those sisters prayed me into the priesthood!
I will never forget the time Sr. Noel told me that if she ever had the opportunity to visit Rome she would be content to go straight to the church of St. Mary Major there to sit before the relics of the Savior’s Crib enshrined in a small chapel beneath the high altar. Several times, including on my most recent pilgrimage, I have I prayed before those relics for Sr. Noel’s eternal repose.
Sr. Noel and I visited about many things. She told stories, many of which I still remember. We read poetry together which helped me discover that man cannot live on prose alone. We prayed together and laughed together. I wept at her death in January 2007 and had to dig deep to find the composure to read (at her wish) Tennyson’s Crossing the Bar after her funeral Mass. As I look back on the gift of having known her, a spunky woman from Baton Rouge, Louisiana who was nearly eighty years my senior, I am astounded at the authentic fellowship we can discover before the Crib of Christ where we are all brothers and sisters, no matter our age or background.
When we follow the star that beckons all humankind to know, love and serve the Lord we all converge at the Crib. I am so grateful that Sr. Noel helped me to understand the mysterious beckoning of the Christmas mystery in my life.
A blessed celebration of the Lord’s Nativity this week.
United at the Crib,
~Fr. Howe