DAY 1 The Christmas Thief

 

The Christmas Thief

An Advent Calendar in Prose

Day 1

Barnaby was a thief. To be exact, a burglar. He made his living slipping in and out of the posh Eastside apartments in the old town. There wasn’t a lock, chain, or Doberman that could keep him out. With a flip of the wrist or the toss of a bone, he slipped in, filled his canvas bag, tipped his hat, and slid out into the silent night. 

Barnaby was well known to the cops at the 57^th Precinct. He had started his career as a pick-pocket and had spent many a night as a guest of the city. Officer Tom Reilly remembered him as a snot-nosed kid with a smirk on his face. He also remembered him as a boy with a mother who couldn’t remember his name for the drink and a father who had skipped out before the boy could even say, “Da-da.”

Barnaby hadn’t spent a night on the city since he had started burgling. He was too smart for that. He tipped his hat to the coppers on the beat and glided by with his head held high. Lt. Reilly watched him saunter down the street as he filled out one more report of a burglary on the high street. He decided to beef up his patrols of the Eastside.

At the top of December, Barnaby got tired of the Eastside – and a little leery of the sight of one more copper rocking back and forth on his heels on every corner. He decided to try his luck a little further downtown. Scouting around for an easy job, he spotted an old brownstone on King’s Ave. A holly wreath hung in every window of the two top floors. Silver candlesticks with red candles lit by moonlight stood on the windowsills.

Plenty of old money and heirloom silver in those old brownstones even in these tough times, he thought, just ripe for the picking. Barnaby rubbed his hands together as he strolled back and forth planning his evening’s work. 

Prepare the Way: Luke 1:16-17 “He’ll be filled with the Holy Spirit from the moment he leaves his mother’s womb. He will turn many sons and daughters of Israel back to their God. He will herald God’s arrival in the style and strength of Elijah, soften the hearts of parents to children, and kindle devout understanding among hardened skeptics—he’ll get the people ready for God.”             (MSG)

Challenge: Advent is a season of preparation. Are you preparing for the coming of Jesus? Read the scriptures included with each section of the story. How do they relate to the story characters and plot? How do they relate to your life? Every morning, as you rise, say aloud, “Come, Lord Jesus.” On a calendar, keep a record of how he comes to you. Will he soften your heart? Will he kindle devout understanding? How will he get you ready for God?

The Christmas Thief

 

The Christmas Thief 

An Advent Calendar in Prose

Advent, the period of four Sundays and weeks before Christmas, is a time of preparation. The word Advent means “Coming.” It is a season of self-reflection, anticipation, hope, and joy. Christians prepare their hearts for the coming of Jesus.  

The observance of Advent dates back to the 6th century when monks fasted during the days leading up to Christmas. Advent Calendars became popular in the 19th Century. German Protestant Christians marked 24 chalk lines on a door and rubbed one off every day in December. Paper calendars became popular in the early 1900s. Scenes from the Bible story and other Christmas images, such as snowmen and robins, were hidden behind paper doors — one to be opened each day. Calendars with toys or chocolate candies became popular in the 20th century. President Dwight D. Eisenhower is credited for popularizing Advent calendars when he was photographed opening windows with his grandchildren.

The Christmas Thief: An Advent Calendar in Prose, is a new way to count down the days to Christmas, As the story unfolds day by day, reflect on the meaning of the story and the accompanying scripture lesson. Accept the challenge offered each day. 

Prepare your heart for the coming Christ. 

What We Remember

 

What We Remember

I was talking to my cousin the other day about some odd memories we shared. I remembered the vise his father used in his workshop. My cousin owns it now. We remembered his big brother howling into the laundry chute scaring us into believing that the bathroom was haunted. We remembered throwing interesting things into the chute and racing them down. 

Memories are the glue that holds families together. When we can no longer share physical space due to distance or circumstances, we keep close in memories. Remembering family stories, trips, experiences, and members brings us together. We remember Uncle Joe who entertained us with amazing whistles we could never duplicate. We remember Aunt Mary’s lasagna and Aunt Grace’s technicolor hair. The time we caught seventeen snapper fish off the pier in ten minutes. Early mornings watching the sun rise over a foggy beach. Dipping our toes into the frigid water and daring each other to jump in. The freedom of riding bikes wherever we wanted to go. Gathering around a wood fire on summer evenings to tell scary stories.

Family stories stitch us together. Nana remembered growing up as the eldest of twelve in Brooklyn and her brothers who didn’t live past childhood. Nonna traveled to America in third-class steerage with her brothers after WWI entering through Ellis Island. Aunts and uncles told stories about life in the old country. Cousins laughed as rowboats sank, forts collapsed, and games of Monopoly went on all summer. Forgotten objects found in the attic, cards from our parents or grandparents, family photos stretching back to the 1800s, awaken a treasure of memories.

My father’s stories about his childhood ring in my ears — some true and some wildly exaggerated but just as cherished. He walked two miles to school every day, uphill in the snow, and drank a gallon of milk a day. How my grandmother laughed when we asked her about his stories. Dad moaned about how terrible it was to be sent to Arizona alone in his teens to treat his asthma — neglecting to mention that he was the president of this class, captain of his baseball team, and had his own horse while there. Seventeen-year-old Dad trying out for a major league baseball team in the 1940s. His hands shook so hard he could barely catch a ball. Nineteen-year-old Dad meeting the love of his life at a St. Patrick’s Day dance.

Mom told us of her “accidental” birth in Italy while her mother visited her family, unaware of the coming blessed event. She remembered her father marching his young family over the Brooklyn Bridge every Sunday in the 1930s to breathe the fresh air of America. Her family worked in their restaurant serving customers in the dining room and laughing in the kitchen.  

Memories are the beating heart of a family. Keeping them alive keeps us alive. Sharing them brings us close. This Thanksgiving, when we are far apart, let us keep one another close in memory and in love. 

Stop and Think

 

Stop and Think

My sister recently decided that she has spent too much time working in elementary schools when she found herself reminding her five-pound Yorkie to “Stop and Think!” Putting aside any argument that dogs are capable of reasoned thought, her actions got me to thinking: When we tell children to “Stop and Think,” what do we expect?

I have spent many years working with primary students in Kindergarten, first, and second grades, in schools, tutoring programs, and camp. Many times, after witnessing some youthful accident, action, or naughtiness, I have found myself wondering, “What are they thinking?”

Children do not arrive in the world as “blank slates.” Research has shown that even newborns have individual preferences and needs. As they grow and learn children observe, collate, and codify information to develop opinions and ideas. As children gain knowledge and experiences, they begin to reason and reflect. Each step is developmental, that is, in general, a two-year-old will not be able to reason as well as a five-year-old — as many a tantrum will attest.

In these early years, where are our children learning thinking skills? Most obviously from their parents. Parents are the prime models for children learning to think, and not only how to think, but what to think about. By their words, and more critically by their actions, parents — and other adults important to children, such as grandparents, teachers, and caregivers — teach children to “stop and think.”

Adam and Allison Grant, in their article, “Stop Trying to Raise Successful Kids,” note that 90 percent of today’s parents when asked to name their top priority for their children they answer, to “be caring.” Everyone wants to raise children who are kind. Yet, when their children are asked what their parents want for them, “81% say their parents value achievement over caring.” Why the disconnect? The Grants explain, “Kids learn what’s important not by listening to what we say, but by noticing what gets our attention… However much we praise kindness and caring, we’re not actually showing our kids that we value these traits.” In other words, we don’t practice what we preach.

When we ask kids to “stop and think,” what have we given them to think about? Are they thinking about the many times their parents have criticized others or the times they’ve offered words of encouragement? The times they’ve compared their living standards to their neighbors or the times they’ve helped others in need? Are they thinking about the pessimism and acrimony which permeate our culture, or the hope and kindness demonstrated by teachers, caregivers, grandparents, and friends? Are we giving our children kind and helpful thoughts so that when they are asked to “stop and think” they will have good thoughts to access and apply? 

Good thoughts lead to good actions. Adults must front-load good thoughts so that children can rely on them to make good decisions. Be kind and caring and your children will take note. Stop and think before you act so that your children will too.

(Quotations from Grant and Grant, The Atlantic, Sept. 2019)