A Small Witness

I took down my Christmas tree today, Holy Saturday.  Living alone, having few guests, I’ve never felt a priority on storing it, and this year I resolved to leave it up until today, as a reminder to celebrate Christ’s birth, Christmas, until the day o His “re-birth”, Easter.  It made sense to me when I decided to do this, and it still does.  I think perhaps this will become an annual Holy Saturday event for me.  It only took me a few hours this afternoon to carefully pack the ornaments, lights, stairway wreaths, mantle creche and figurines, and to dismantle and store the tree.  Then I carefully dragged the large containers down the basement steps and stacked them there. 

It was when I was gently putting the final box of ornaments at the top of the stack of boxes that I softly heard: “I want a hippopotamus for Christmas …” I stood there, smiling, until the ornament’s song ended, and thanked God.  I perceived, however, the music was His way of thanking me, for all the days when I glanced at that Christmas tree these past months, and we talked.  I don’t think the music I heard was a “coincidence,” except perhaps as in Einstein’s definition of the word 😊.

I mentioned to a friend my Holy Saturday regimen, and she commented that my neighbors must be laughing at me.  I never gave a thought about that, nor cared.  Like the ones who greeted me as I walked outside today, saying the Divine Mercy Novena prayer while fingering my rosary, they know I am a man of faith.  I’m not afraid to stand up publicly to witness my faith, whether by saying the rosary, grace before meals in a restaurant, or wearing the cross on a chain around my neck, or leaving my Christmas tree up until Easter.

My outside Christmas lights were disconnected at the end of the Christmas Season in January, but they remained up.  I connected them again today, and tonight through Easter Sunday night they will be continually on.  I kept the Christmas tree up as a celebration of His birth, until Easter Sunday, a celebration of His re-birth.  Having the outside lights on these two days seems an appropriate overlapping of the two celebrations.  The neighbors will know why I do it, and if they would mock me for it, well, I know others who were mocked too.  I regularly pray to them.

This public witness of my faith is just a small way I will oppose this culture, and give glory and thanks to God.