From The Innkeepers

December 2020 Blog

Of Christmases Past and Present

As we turn the calendar to the month of December a flood of memories came rushing to me of Christmases past.  I grew up in a Polish family and the religious celebration of the feast was at the heart of our home.  Of course, there was the traditional Advent wreath and calendar, but among my most favorite memories was that of Christmas Eve.  Before our evening meal we had the honored tradition of sharing the Oplatek with one another.  My grandmother called them “angel bread” for reasons unknown to me, but admittedly it did impress me as being a holy thing that we were sharing.  The “bread” was a large communion like thin unleavened wafer which my father would break apart and distribute the pieces to each member of our nuclear family and usually one of my favorite aunts and her family.  Then we in turn would go around the room and each person present would break off a piece of the wafer from every other person present in the room.  While doing so we would share holiday wishes, hugs and kisses, and blessings for the year to come.  At the end of circling the room every person would be holding a small piece of each one’s wafer in their own hand.  In a gesture of unity we then simultaneously ate the handful of small broken pieces together. I loved this ritual because it gave me a sense of belonging.   Even as a child it taught me that I had a small piece of everyone else present inside of me.  That I was who I was because of the people sharing this cultural and spiritual tradition in my home. 

Fast forward to the present.  It is now seventy-one Christmases later. This year’s version promises to be very different than holidays past.  We will be here alone at the Inn without other members of our family, but regardless of our present circumstances the core of the holiday is the same.  Our connections are still the same, just not able to be expressed in the same way.  We long to just hug each other, but absent the ability to do that we decided to embrace the wider world together.  Our family came to a decision that in the midst of the pandemic, we were not going to feed the Amazonian beast of online shopping in an attempt to give gifts to each other.  There is nothing that we need.  Material things are incapable of bridging the gap and the void that the virus has created.  Yet many people in our community struggle with food insecurity and homelessness.  So instead of exchanging gifts we are supporting the organizations in our local communities that provide these essential items for human survival to those who are in need.  In this small way then, instead of giving gifts to each other, we can be the gift to those who need us to step up and be just that.  It reminds me of a quote by Thomas Merton that I stumbled upon in something I was reading.  “I am gift.  All that I am is something given and given freely.  Being doesn’t cost anything.  There’s no price tags, no strings attached.”   In extending ourselves beyond our immediate family we are shedding what Merton calls the “senseless tyranny of quantity”.   By not adhering to popular cultural expectations of what Christmas is all about perhaps some yet unborn aspect of ourselves will come to life which will bring us closer to how we were meant to live and care for each other.

 So, this month and always I would encourage you to let loose the gift that you are into the world.  All that each of us needs is to be loved, to be happy, and to have hope.  Go, bring those gifts to others. Be their gift. The world outside yourself is waiting to receive what it needs from your hands. 

Have a blessed month and blessed holiday.

Marcia 

PS

 To all of our guests who would in the month of December normally celebrate the holiday by allowing us to host their gatherings here at the Inn, know that we miss you and look forward to the day when we can once again be a part of the celebratory moments in your lives.  Hopefully 2021 will bring us an effective vaccine, and we will once again feel that it is safer to be with one another.