"He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot . . ."

The Bishop of Myra

This Tuesday, December 6th marked the Feast of St. Nicholas, which, in certain Christian traditions, is the day when children find gifts that were left for them during the night.  It is the precursor to our American tradition on the morning of December 25th when gifts from Santa Claus are discovered in our homes.  So how did we get from a feast day of a saint to a jolly old legend known well by children?

A quick check of Wikipedia reveals that Nicholas was indeed a real person.  He was the Bishop of Myra, in what is now modern-day Turkey.  He lived in the 4th century and is most famous for coming to the aide of a poor man with three daughters.  Because the poor man could not afford a dowry for the girls, Nicholas decided to help.  He went to the house under cover of night and threw three purses filled with gold coins through the window opening into the house.  In another version of the story Nicholas drops a bag down the chimney instead. Yet another story holds that one of the daughters washed her stockings in the evening and hung them over the embers to dry and the next morning a bag of gold was found in the stocking. 

Sounding a bit familiar?  Let's check with Clement Clark Moore's description of St. Nicholas from his legendary poem that has defined our modern-day image of Santa Claus. 

A Visit from St. Nicholas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds;

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window, I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,

Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,

When what to  my wondering eyes did appear,

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! on Cupid! on Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash way! dash away all!"

As the leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew

With a sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too --

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes--how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight --

"Merry Christmas to all, AND to all a good night!"

I recite this poem every Christmas Eve as part of a little game that we have played at our table for over thirty years.  After dinner we clear the table and small, wrapped gifts are placed at each setting.  The poem is read (by me) and every time the word "and" is said, each person passes their gift to the person on the right. It  is a "hot-potato-type game" that gets a little crazy by the end given all the passing.  (Note that I have made each "and" in bold above to help you get started.)  I read with great animation, emphasizing each "and" as it often takes a few promptings for everyone to get it :)  When the kids were small I had a silly glove with finger puppets for each of the characters in the poem that was my "prop" to tell the story.  These days I recite mostly to adults and dispense with the theatrics.  But either way, it's always fun to be a kid again!  When I get to the last line it has become our tradition that everyone chimes in as we shout, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"  Then we go around the table as each person opens their gift; chocolates, books, calendars, tools, blankets, etc. 


It only seem fitting to include a Christmas Cookie recipe for the customary treat that is waiting for Santa when he arrives.

Snowballs 

This is one of my most cherished Christmas cookie recipes.  It was given to me by the always effervescent, Josie Bachleda, my neighbor Kim Fratto's mom.  She wrote it on an index card in the most beautiful cursive handwriting and even laminated it so that it would not get stained while baking!   Sweet memories of someone near-and-dear to my heart . . .

     1 lb. unsalted butter
     12 tablespoons powder sugar
     4 cups sifted flour
     4 cups finely chopped pecan or walnuts
     2 teaspoons vanilla

Cream together butter & sugar.  Beat until light & fluffy.  Stir in vanilla.  Gradually add flour.  Lastly, add nuts and mix until blended.  Chill mixture several hours for ease of handling.

Pinch off small piece of dough to make a ball 1 inch in diameter.  Place on ungreased cookie sheet.  Bake in 350 oven for 20 minutes, or until lightly brown.

While still warm, roll balls in powder sugar to make a white coating.  Store in airtight container and use was paper between layers.


"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights . . ."  James 1:17

Dear Jesus,
The story of St. Nicholas, and even the legend of Santa Claus, have a wonderful theme of  gift giving. What a delight to be surprised by a gift!  And how often in our lives do You, Lord, surprise and delight us?  Thank you Jesus, for the gift that You became for us . . . our Joy to the World!  In the name above all names we  pray.