Wishes and The Christ Child

My ancestry on one side of the family is Moravian and Bohemian Catholic, in the Latin Rite, and I must share a story which my grandmother on the maternal side wrote for a newspaper competition years ago and it is a true story.

Writing has been a "thing" for at least four generations on that side.

When Grandma Ludmilla was a little girl, six, in 1906, she wanted a beautiful porcelain doll dressed like in silk and taffeta with a big hat.  In her family, no decorations were put up before Christmas. There was a large second living room, with the pocket doors leading to a foyer. Those doors were shut for days before Christmas and the children would not be allowed to enter the room.

It was being prepared for the Christ Child. Not Santa, but the Christ Child brought gifts to my Grandmother's generation of Catholics in the southern edge of the Midwest. The children would be excited and nervous.

If they were good, the Christ Child would bring gifts. If not, well...

Little Ludmilla, and Vasha, and Jara, and Vaclav and Mohimir and Bohumil were waiting, and being very good.

Then, on the morning of Christmas, Mama and Papa would open the pocket doors. The fairyland behind the doors had to come from Jesus. The tree was decorated with candles lit with real fire, ornaments from Germany and toys from Austria and Germany. There were bowls of fruits and candies.

But, most wonderful of all was Ludmilla's doll. I do not know what she named it, but I am going to say Marianne, which was a popular name at the time. Marianne was not only big, but beautiful, with real hair and all the trappings of an Edwardian lady.

Ludmilla, thrilled that Christ had brought her a doll had another surprise. There, in the corner, near the sideboard, was a new doll carriage with blankets and cushion. Marianne could go for a Christmas walk.

It was warm and where little Ludmilla lived, there was no snow. But her mother made her wear her coat. And a little coat for Marianne was produced, magically, to match Ludmilla's coat.

Outside, on the sidewalks of the city, Ludmilla pushed the carriage, but within minutes, the test of her young life occurred. There, on the pavement, were the neighbour children playing with old toys and wearing old clothes.

Ludmilla stopped. She knew the little girl. The family had little. Ludmilla stopped pushing Marianne. "What did you get for Christmas, Clara?" She asked, boldly. Clara answered, "Nothing,"and she looked at the doll.

Ludmilla immediately responded, "Here, take Marianne. I have other things." And Clara, quietly, but happily, took Marianne.

Ludmilla returned home in a short while without the carriage or the doll. Her father asked her where her new doll was and her mother looked at her searchingly. "I gave Marianne to Clara, for she has nothing for Christmas and I have so much."

Great-Grandma looked at Great-Grandpa. He took Ludmilla's little hand in his and said. "That was good, but you know, you will not get another doll." Ludmilla answered in a strong, determined voice. "I know."She realized that the Christ Child was back in heaven and would not come down for another year.

The family all went in to dinner.

This is a true story. My Grandmother died a long time ago, but her story lives on. Such is the power of memory and writing, and the beauty of a Catholic Christmas.






















There are several books I would like and I shall make a wish list soon. Several are by Robert Hugh Benson, including his Friendship of Christ, None Other Gods, and Bernard of Clairvaux's complete Sermons on the Song of Songs. I f anyone has any extra pennies in this hard year...