This is a Christmas article my father wrote several years ago. Peter actually passed away just before Christmas 2019 - may God bless him.
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Yes, that time of the year has come to us again, that time that gives us all the opportunity to show peace and good will to the great world which is outside of ourselves. Yes, and it is a time too which gives us the opportunity to revisit memories, back to those days long ago, when we stood looking in wonder at the beautiful Bethlehem, which was arranged nicely and peacefully, in the village Guest House , and even further back, to the first Manger in Royal Bethlehem in the Holy Land itself, at the beginning of the Christian era, when Jesus was born in the Stable, because there was nowhere to be found for his mother, Mary, or Joseph, in the Guest House of the town, that blessed night.
Christmas Night
Look how the poet, Máire Mhac an tSaoi, put it, in her poem "Oíche Nollag", when she said that the moneyed folk found shelter in that same Guest House that night, but that the Virgin and her husband were left with nowhere inside available to them, save and old stable for the animals.
The lights were all lighting in that little hostel,
There were generous servings of victuals and wine,
For merchants of silk, for merchants of woollens,
But Jesus will lie in this household tonight. an tigh seo anocht.
The poet is referring to the custom that was alive, among Gaels, at that time, that the Holy Family used to wander around that night, trying to get inside a strange house, and that was the reason the door would be left open, the Christmas candle burning, and a place set ready for them at the table, hoping that they would come to visit them, that blessed night. See again how Máire Mhac an tSaoi puts it, in another verse, in that same poem:
Leave the door open before her,
The Virgin who’ll come with the child on her breast,
Deonaigh do shuaimhneas a ligint a Mhuire,
Luíodh Mac Dé ins an tigh seo anocht.
There is no doubt in the world, but that the poet managed to understand and express the attitude and beliefs of the common people, in the verses of that beautiful poem, "Oíche Nollag".
A Vigil kept
It was not the custom of the western people to go overboard, that night, with food or drink, as they were waiting for the arrival of the Holy Family to visit them. They used to have a normal supper, potatoes and fish, perhaps, or something similar, for wouldn’t they have a big Christmas dinner to prepare the next morning, that is, after Mass, as on that morning, every priest was in the habit of saying three Masses, and as a result, they would start very early in the morning, at half past eight, perhaps, and those people would be at home again, around ten, and then they would start preparing dinner. Yes, my soul, and remember that they didn't have modern cooking devices at that time, indeed! They only had a three-legged oven and a pot, and they had to work those devices on the open fire. Big change in the times between then and now!
How about toys then?
What about the boys and girls then? You can bet it wouldn't take them long to open their Christmas treats, nor would it take two people to load them onto a cart! I'm talking about my own district, west of Erris, in County Mayo, of course, and the lads used to get nothing but a wee toy gun maybe, and a wee toy car, or the likes, yes, and a handful of sweets and fruit, to fill the stocking. And what about the girls? Well, they would usually get dolls, and maybe sweets and fruit too. We used to play with those Christmas treats, and then some of us would go out in search of the wren, as we were getting ready for Wren Day, since it was the day after Christmas Day. If we didn't manage to find a wren that day, and I promise you, those same wrens would know that we were looking for them that particular day, as they would clear out of our way very early that morning. Well, if we didn't manage to find one of them, what would we do then was to wait until nightfall, and then, it wouldn't be too difficult to find a sleepy sparrow in the gutter, and that would do it for us the next day, as long as we didn’t let anyone get too close to the bird which was well covered in a cage we had!
Memories
There is no doubt in the world, but that a flood of memories returns to me, at this time of year, as I go back that distressing, complicated, interesting, memory lane. Here is how I spoke about some of those thoughts, in a poem I composed myself last year:
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A treasure of accumulated memories
In the cupboard of bundled memories,
Going out with a Wren, early Mass,
Angels and Shepherds visiting,
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Sharing nice things generously,
Roasting delicious foods,
Christmas treats given with heart,
And Jesus’ birthday being celebrated.
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They Chose a Goose.
They were not roasting a turkey for the occasion, at that time,no indeed, but a goose. Yes, a beautiful, plucky, Irish goose, for Christmas, and wouldn’t we get the gravy and meat, and finally, when we had cleverly and carefully worked down to the bones, we would not discard those bones carelessly either, no we would not indeed! As in fact the wing bones were very popular with us, as by cutting them carefully, we were able to make goose guns from them, and then, we only had to put a small bit of wood through the heart of the bone, and a potato, in order to start shooting bullets at everyone around the house. Didn’t we have fun! I can promise you that we had as much fun with those same goose guns as youngsters today would have with their PlayStations and the like! Yes – big difference between then and now.
But to add a fitting end to this week's piece, it might not be a bad idea to wish each and every one of my readers a merry Christmas, and may each of you be seven times better, a year from tonight. And yes, many happy returns!
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Birth in the Stable
The Christmas season is upon us,
And white flakes coming down
As a bright, holy, shining flag,
Hiding grime and dirt for us.
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But inside my heart, with enthusiasm,
I will prepare a manger, with effort,
and I will clear away the grime of the years
From the old stable of my hard soul.
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The Christmas season is upon us,
And the holy, Heavenly Infant, coming down,
Is washing, and saving the Clan of Eve,
And hiding sin and trouble for us.
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English 
Gaeilge