Up on the Housetop

I must have been about 5 or 6 that Christmas Eve.

My grandmother was spending the night so she could wake up with all of us on Christmas morning. To make sure that Grandma had a bed, my oldest sister Maureen and I slept on the third floor of our Rodgers Forge townhouse. We were tucked in under the sheets on an old sofa bed, nestled beneath the sloped ceiling decorated in floral 1970s wallpaper.

In my memory, we were fast asleep when suddenly we heard a scraping noise on the roof. I woke up—and so did Maureen. We lay there wide-eyed listening to what was surely Santa’s sleigh above us. Was that what reindeer hooves sounded like? Was that Santa’s boot? Could the sleigh be scraping as it took off into the night? I was in awe.

It was wondrous and magical, startling and real. I was sure that Santa and his reindeer were close by, just overhead as we slept, delivering our gifts on their magical trip around the world.

As excited as we were, we finally, finally fell back to sleep. The next morning, we found our gifts waiting for us down in the living room, placed just where Santa always left them. I couldn’t believe we had heard him in action. It was a dream come true.

You don’t stay a child forever. But as my understanding of the miracle of Santa grew, I often thought of that mysterious encounter as one of those magical moments of childhood. There is something special about the openness of a child, accepting the possibilities of life, ready to experience joy in the ordinary and the extraordinary.

Jesus tells us to approach life with the faith of a child. As we enter into the season of Advent and begin to prepare our hearts for Christmas, perhaps we can engage more fully with the season if we let ourselves be like children—with open eyes and open hearts.

The Christmas season is full of mystery and magic, with lights and decorations bringing joy to the darkness. The carols and songs evoke so many memories and nostalgia. The scents of the freshly baked cookies and the evergreen tree give a sense of comfort and peace. The candles on the Advent wreath bring a little spiritual light into our homes and gently accompany us through this fast-paced time, reminding us of the light of the world and inspiring us to bring light to others.

But it is the scriptural stories of this season that truly draw us into the true magic of Christmas. We wait, we hope, and we pray, knowing that God sends us his only son, Jesus, in a manger in a stable in Bethlehem. We walk with the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph toward Bethlehem. We hope they find a place for Jesus to be born—and they do. A child’s wonder makes it possible for us to enter into that scene.

We imagine the animals around, the star shining above, the shepherds creeping in to see the Christ Child, and Mary and Joseph—loving and joyful, welcoming the baby boy who would change the world. The sights, the sounds, the scents, and the emotions of that scene carry us along and into the story. The story of Jesus’ birth is ours to experience, ours to remember, and ours to celebrate every year—entering in as a curious child, ready to meet this newborn Jesus, ready to experience God’s love for us anew.

“Jesus points out to me the only way which leads to Love’s furnace—that way is self-surrender,” said St. Therese of Lisieux. “It is the confidence of the little child who sleeps without fear in its father’s arms.”

As we walk through Advent toward Christmas, may we experience the wonder of God’s love, recognizing that in him alone we can find hope, endless grace, and everlasting peace.

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