It’s no secret that Christmas and its festivities and traditions have provided rich material for stories and books through the centuries. A Christmas Carol, Miracle on 34th Street, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, not to mention the innumerable Hallmark-style, Christmas love stories and all the wonderful children’s books about Christmas. In fact, there’s really a whole canon of Christmas tales – some profound and moving, some historical, others sacchrinely sweet and sappy, still others charming, fanciful and fun.
This year, through the recommendation of a friend, I discovered a Christmas story that completely transported me to its world: The Legend of Holly Claus by Brittney Ryan with illustrations by Laurel Long. It instantaneously became a favorite.
Holly Claus is not a picture book, but the illustrations, if you can find the colored version, are absolutely luminous and breathtaking. Even in black-and-white, they are magical.
Ryan includes mythological creatures and recognizable names from history to create this legend centering on Holly Claus, daughter of King Nicholas (Santa Claus) and his wife Viviana, and princess of Forever, the Land of the Immortals. Holly is the first human to be born in Forever and shortly after her birth she, along with the other immortals are cursed by the evil Harrikhan whose pride previously had caused him to be punished by the elders of the universe.
When Holly grows up, she decides she must earn her place in Forever and break the spell that holds her and her people captive.
Her adventure leads her to the mortal realm into Victorian New York City where she befriends a group of orphans and comes to work at a toy store, which is instrumental in the outcome of her future and fate.
Accompanying Holly on her journey are four animal friends, which I wish could be my companions: Tundra, the wise but tender wolf who is Holly’s protector and advisor; Alexia, the opinionated fox with a flair for fashion; Emperia, the slightly befuddled but well-meaning owl; and Empy, the loving and stout-hearted penguin. These four characters provide crucial help to Holly as well as comic relief to the story.
Holly is an admirable heroine. Her heart is pure and good, but she is not a goody-two-shoes. She’s genuine and fun-loving. She’s honest, humble, and brave.
The Legend of Holly Claus very beautifully conveys the theme of the power of love, that love is more powerful than fear, upon which evil thrives, and that love is even more powerful than time. This aspect of the story, which plays a major role in the conclusion, reminded me of the Bible verse: “Perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4:18)
Another motif is the importance of hopes and dreams, and without giving away spoilers , let’s just say Holly has a very special gift of discerning the dreams of children and creating something to help them define thosedreams.
Ryan’s writing combines the stately tone of a noble legend with the beauty of poetry and the relatability of human conversation and experience.
I really can not recommendthis book enough. Read it with your kids or enjoy this gem on your own. It is pure Christmas magic and delight and there’s even a love story interwoven in the narrative as well.
It may be January, but this enchanting legend is sure to keep that Christmas cheer in your heart through the cold winter nights.
Note: I wrote this short essay some years back as a school assignment inspired by NPR’s “This I Believe” program. I think it’s an appropriate time of year to retrieve from the annals and share with you all.A few minor edits have been made. 😉🎅🏻
I believe in Santa Claus. It might seem strange that a 21-year-old college student claims to believe in Santa Claus, but why shouldn’t I? From “Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus” to “Miracle on 34th Street,” there has been story after story that reaffirms faith in the jolly resident of the North Pole and in all he represents, and I have always eaten these stories up like Santa eats the milk and cookies left out for him on Christmas Eve.
Growing up, it was part of my family’s ritual at Christmas time to go visit “Legendary Santa” in a city not far from us. My parents would dress up my brother and me, and we’d go wait in line, sometimes for hours on end, to get our chance to sit on Santa’s lap, have our picture taken, and make our requests known to this magical gift-giver. This was a momentous occasion, and we were always practically shaking with fright and excitement. In fact, I was so terrified that it wasn’t until I was five years old that I would even sit on Santa’s knee. Every year prior, except when I was a baby and didn’t know any better, the picture with Santa invariably has me latched on for dear life to my Mother, head turned away from my brother and Santa Claus. Nevertheless, I still loved Santa!
Come Christmas Eve, (even after Santa and I were on speaking terms), I could hardly sleep; I would lie in bed barely daring to move or breathe, my head nearly completely covered by my blankets. However, without fail, Christmas morning would ring with shouts of “He came!” and “Thank you, Santa!”
One year I was totally flabbergasted because under the tree was a doll for which I had secretly been wishing; I hadn’t even told my parents, but somehow, Santa knew. Another year, a doll of my Mom’s, which she had handed down to me and which needed some repairs, mysteriously went missing from my room, a candy cane left in its place. Sure enough, on Christmas morning, there was the doll beautifully restored under the Christmas tree. Christmas magic indeed!
Now I’m not saying I literally believe there is a man who lives at the North Pole and delivers presents on Christmas Eve, but I’m also not saying I don’t believe. After all, the legacy of Santa Claus began with an historical man, St. Nicholas, a bishop who legend says helped a needy father pay for his three daughters’ weddings. Moreover, Christmas is a time when I celebrate Christ’s birth. It is remembered as a time of miracles and of love.
I believe this is what Santa Claus represents. He is a reminder that there is still mystery and wonder and innocence in the world, and that love, joy, and generosity are timeless. So yes, I am twenty-one, and I believe in Santa Claus, and I plan to keep believing in him throughout my life because his spirit and what he stands for is undoubtedly good and worthy of belief.
The holiday season isa time of love and peace. A celebration of faith and tradition with family and friends. It’s a period of reflection, renewal, joy, and generosity.
Or, at least, it’s supposed to be.
Regrettably, the pressures of the commercialization and material expectations of this special season often make peace seem more like a dream than a reality for many people and often long before December even rolls around.
If you’re experiencing the stress of a hectic holiday and worrying excessively about checking off that to-do list more incessantly than Santa checks his list, a few minutes with O. Henry’s classic short story, “The Gift of the Magi” may help calm your jangled nerves.
O. Henry, the pen name of William Henry Porter (1862-1910), was an American author renowned for his short stories, which frequently had a surprise or unexpected twist at the end. One of his best-known works is “The Gift of the Magi.”
At fewer than ten pages, this story is ideal to pick up and read during a moment of down time amid the holiday bustle. You may just come away from it looking at all your tasks with fresh eyes.
(Warning: spoilers ahead!)
This brief but impactful Christmas tale centers on a young married couple, Jim and Della Dillingham, who don’t have much money to buy one another Christmas presents. Consequently, they both secretly decide to sell a prized possession in order to purchase a gift for the other.
A witty narrator guides the reader through this domestic drama, focusing mainly on the experience and journey of Della. Through Della’s and Jim’s struggles and triumphs, the reader is reminded of some important truths that apply not only during the holidays but throughout the whole year.
1) People are more important than possessions.
This lesson may be an obvious conclusion from the basic plot of the story, but it merits pondering nonetheless. As already mentioned, both Jim and Della possess something of which they are extremely proud.
Jim owns a magnificent gold watch, a family heirloom that had belonged to his father and grandfather. “Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard in envy,” writes O. Henry.
Della’s point of pride is her voluminous, beautiful brown hair. “Had the Queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty’s jewels and gifts.”
Clearly, these were valuable objects to the Dillinghams.
The action of the story begins on Christmas Eve when Della realizes that the $1.87 that she painstakingly saved for Jim’s Christmas present will never be enough for anything she deems worthy of her husband.
Suddenly a flash of inspiration strikes her, and, looking in the mirror, she resolves to sell her bountiful hair in order to buy Jim something he deserves. She receives $20 for her locks, a handsome sum, and she immediately scours the stores for the perfect item.
We later learn that Jim has sold his cherished gold watch to buy something for Della. (Notice I’m not yet mentioning what they bought in exchange for their prized possessions.)
Jim and Della’s actions of selling a treasured item in order to bring happiness to one another reminds us to check our priorities.
Do we put material wealth, goods, appearance over the happiness of our loved ones? Do we really consider the people for whom we are buying a gift, thinking of what they truly need or enjoy? Or do we select something perfunctorily out of obligation? What are we willing to give up for those we love?
This last question brings me to the next lesson.
2) True love involves sacrifice. Any type of love, be it of the romantic, familial, or friendship variety, necessarily involves giving of oneself, sometimes painfully, if it is to be a real love that abides and grows. By humbling themselves through relinquishing their points of pride in self-denial, Della and Jim exemplify this other-oriented love.
When Della resolves to sell her hair, O. Henry notes, “Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.” Yet he also describes her eyes as having a “brilliant sparkle.” Her countenance is an accurate depiction of the bittersweet nature of sacrifice. Giving up her beautiful hair isn’t easy and once the deed is done, she worries about Jim’s reaction to her altered appearance. However, the sparkle in her eye indicates a deeper feeling of grace and sweetness in sacrificing for a loved one.
We don’t know any reservations with which Jim may have grappled, but it isn’t unreasonable to assume that he also felt twinges of reluctance to part with something so high in monetary and sentimental value as his gold watch. Regardless, his action demonstrates that his love for his wife enabled him to give up a dear possession.
How do we serve those we love? Are we unselfish in giving of time and sharing our blessings, material or otherwise? Or do we like those people only because of how they can benefit us?
3) The most valuable gifts aren’t necessarily material goods. As you may have suspected by now if you’re unfamiliar with the tale, Jim and Della each selected an item for the other to complement his or her prized possession. Della bought an elegant gold chain for Jim’s watch, and Jim bought a lovely set of hair combs for which Della had wished. Materially speaking, their well-intentioned generosity was in vain since neither could use the gift. However, neither one is vexed for long.
Jim has a “peculiar expression” when he first sees his wife’s shorn locks. Furthermore, he must comfort Della, who is initially distressed when she unwraps her combs, but she soon smiles agreeably and remarks how fast her hair grows. When Jim sees his watch chain, he also smiles and suggests storing away their gifts temporarily. Della then prepares their supper.
As thoughtful as the material items were meant to be, Della and Jim’s sacrifice for each other was the gift of greater value.
O. Henry concludes his story by describing Jim and Della as “the magi,” saying that of all wise men this young couple is the wisest because of their self-sacrifice for each other.
We have been taught that it is more blessed to give than to receive and that we also receive when we give to others. However, we sometimes forget that the hidden ingredient behind the truth of these words is love. It is selfless love that animates sacrifice and makes it sweet and that empowers the act of giving to be something other than a mechanical offering.
O. Henry reminds us of this lesson through the fictional characters of Jim and Della.
The gift of self-sacrifice might entail giving up material goods like the Dillinghams did. Yet self-sacrifice could also mean we give up previously-made plans to take care of a sick loved one or to call a friend going through a hard time.
Self-giving could also come in the form of devoting time, energy, and resources to create something homemade (instead of store-bought) like a hand-knitted scarf, a home-cooked meal or a photo album of old memories accompanied by hand-written notes.
What better time than the holidays to re-ignite a more personal and selfless type of love in our attitude to gift-giving and in our interactions with loved ones and in our communities? We may find that our disquieting holiday stress melts into the joy and goodwill that this season is meant to celebrate.
This past Sunday was the first day of the liturgical season of Advent, a special time in which we prepare to remember and celebrate Christ’s birth at Christmas as well as to welcome Him anew into our lives and hearts. It also serves as a reminder that we will meet Him one day face-to-face and that He will judge the world at the end of time.
One of the primary points of the homily during Mass this past Sunday was the obligation we have to use our gifts and talents for the glory of God and as a means of preparation for His coming. The priest said that God has given us these gifts for the specific day and age in which we live. And we must use our talents to build up the Church and the world.
Later that day the thought occurred to me that the Christmas song “The Little Drummer Boy” exemplifies this message.
The impoverished Little Drummer Boy wants desperately to give a gift to the newborn Christ Child but has nothing of material value to offer, so he plays his drum, that is, he uses his talent for the baby Jesus. His simple but loving offering of music pleases the Baby Who smiles at him in return. His offering of the intangible talent is his gift.
I think we can learn something of extraordinary value from this gentle Christmas carol. A lesson succinctly summed up in the following quote:
“Our talents are the gift that God gives to us. …What we make of our talents is our gift back to God.”
The Bible says, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.” -Colossians 3:17
I think it’s easy to downplay or discredit our skills and gifts as unimportant or to disassociate them from our spiritual and religious lives. Or we can wrongfully use our talents primarily as a means of self-gratification and aggrandizement.
The truth is God wants us to discover, to nurture, and to build up the talents He has bestowed on us to bring His light and joy to others. When we do this, we glorify Him. How we do this likely will change as we journey through the different stages and phases of our lives, but as the parable of the talents in the Gospels illustrates, we will be called to account for how we made use of what we were given (Matthew 25:14-30).
The cultivation and sharing of our talents can truly be a means to our own growth in sanctity and joy.
And “talents” can encompass an array of gifts. Certainly, things like artistic skills or athletic ability or eloquent writing or an aptitude for science and medicine or even impressive culinary skills. All of these things, undoubtedly, can be a conduit for the uplifting of others.
But less obvious qualities can also be a talent. The knack for making people laugh. A gift of being a good listener or being able to diffuse a tense situation and be a peacemaker. A compassion for others’ hardships and the willingness to offer quiet encouragement. The list could go on and on.
We all have multiple talents and characteristics, and they are meant to build up those around us, for we all bear God’s image.
In his Advent homily, Father also spoke about how each person’s talents are a different reflection of God.
That is a really cool idea to ponder.
Just think about it: artists, musicians, dancers can be a reflection of God’s beauty. Athletes can reflect His strength. A scientific or mathematical proclivity, His orderliness. That ready, listening ear, His love and gentleness. Of course, God is not just beautiful and strong. He is beauty. He is might and love. But His creation can and does mirror Who He is.
As a professional ballerina, I feel so grateful that it is built into my job to have the opportunity to touch people’s hearts and raise their spirits in both ticketed productions as well as outreach shows at elementary schools and assisted living facilities.
It makes what I do so much more meaningful and gratifying. Especially at this holiday and family-oriented time of year, it is a good reminder for me that I am a part of helping create special memories for children and adults alike, even as the weeks-long run of Nutcracker performances can sometimes be wearying.
As we prepare for Christmas during this season of Advent and as we plot and scheme about tangible holiday presents, I hope I can remember the Little Drummer Boy and the surpassing value of those intangible gifts we all have to share, not only at this time of year but throughout our lives.