7th Day of Christmas

Today, our favourite lass from Newfoundland recalls a Christmas that helped to remind her of the true meaning of Christmas. Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe is a retired Registered Nurse living in Shoal Harbour, Newfoundland. She is passionate about photography, writing and her family. She has two grown children and one granddaughter, who all live too far away from her in Alberta. Her anthology of short stories called Up Til Now is available through www.shopdownhomer.com.

So this is Christmas
By Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe

The windshield wipers made a slip-slop sound as they worked hard to clear the slushy snow that blocked my vision of the road ahead. It was Christmas Eve and I was returning home from a call-back in the operating room. The snowstorm was much worse than had been predicted, with visibility very poor.

I had been called back to work for an emergency Caesarean Section. The baby was in distress and we had to work fast. The whole surgical team worked together and was delighted to be there for the birth of a beautiful healthy eight-pound baby boy. Christmas could be felt in the O.R. when the newborn made his first cry.

Soon the Mom awakened from the anaesthetic and learned she had a baby boy. Her new mother’s joy was infectious. It was Christmas and this was her first baby. She told us she could receive no greater gift, and expressed a desire to be transferred back to her room so she could hold her baby. The Obstetrical nurses came to transport her to the Obstetrical unit, and the surgical team bundled up to face the stormy drive home.

It always seemed that sometime during the few days around Christmas we would witness a Caesarean Section and see a new baby enter the world. It always boosted our spirits. A new birth, a beautiful baby, and an overjoyed family could not help but make those involved feel the awe-inspiring event of birth and new beginnings.

When I arrived home, I found my daughter waiting for me to help her do the last minute things for Christmas. I told her about the new baby boy, and commented on how his Christmas and birthday were so close together. My daughter lit the candles she loved and we packaged our last minute gifts. She wanted to know more about the baby that had just been welcomed into the world.

“Mary only had a barn didn’t she, Mom?” she asked, which started a conversation about the Christmas story.

I loved those special times with my daughter, who was at an age at the end of childhood but not yet an adult. Heather loved Christmas. Sitting in front of the crackling wood fire, warm, safe and comfortable, and being with my family was just tremendous. With a son home from college, it was one of the few times we were all together.

Then we received a call from a neighbour. He wanted to know if my cat, Simon, was home. I assured him he had to be, because he hated the cold, and hated the wind even more. He suggested I check because he had reason to believe that he was not home. Sure enough, after a thorough investigation, we realized that Simon was missing. I could not imagine how he got out, and even more puzzling, why he stayed out in this weather.

“No, he isn’t here! What will I do?” I asked him, filled with anxiety. The caller lived just across the street from the church on the corner with the well-lit Nativity scene displayed at the front. He had seen something moving in the manger, and through his binoculars he and his wife saw what they thought was my beige cat, cuddled up with the figurine of the Baby Jesus.

I left my house quickly and ran to the church. There indeed was my cat, protected from the wind within the walls of the display, his fur warm from the heat of the floodlights, as he slept near the baby figurine in the manger. I carried him home where the children and my husband took turns holding and purring him, something that was a special gift to me, a scene that stays with me still.

How or why my cat crossed that intersection that night is a mystery. He was safe and warm, and quite content to be in the manger, much to the delight of the Christmas Eve churchgoers. My young cat became known as “The Christmas Cat” because many people had seen him as they attended the service that evening.

The events of this Christmas Eve were so unlike any Christmas Eve I had ever experienced. I had heard a newborn baby’s cries, and I had experienced the behaviour of my much loved cat, behaviour that drew me to the Nativity scene where a figure of a newborn baby lay on a bed of hay. Standing and viewing the nativity scene made me think of Mary and Joseph, of the birth of their baby boy, and how the birth I had seen earlier was so very different from the birth of the Baby Jesus.

As I stood in the snow and wind, gazing at the scene before me, I reflected on the true meaning of Christmas. I had been so busy with buying, making, doing, working, wrapping gifts and cooking that I had not taken the time to consider that at all. It was a rude awakening and all because a tiny creature drew me to a scene that reminded me of just what Christmas meant. I had not paid enough attention to it for a long time.

That Christmas Eve I had witnessed a birth, and experienced a rebirth because of the two incidents, and was reminded of the reason for the Season. I still remember the feeling that washed over me as I stood in the snow thinking of all the frivolity surrounding the Christmas season.

Do we really remember that it is a season of spiritual rebirth and renewal? I decided I should concentrate more on the meaning of Christmas and spend less time standing in line-ups at large retail outlets. The marvellous Christmas birth of a baby and the actions of a special little pet took me back to a simpler time of Sunday school and Christmas Concerts. I was reminded of the meaning of the Season and from then on was not so frenzied with the commercialism that accompanies it.

I saw two babies that Christmas Eve, one born in an environment of cleanliness with a good home in which to blossom and grow; the other a figurine of a baby born in the worst of conditions. Both touched my heart and I recalled the lines of a Christmas song by Boney M., whose music I love.

“All across the land dawns a brand-new morn, this comes to pass when a child is born.”