Tonight, I will be celebrating the Eve of the Feast of St Nicholas Day. I cannot remember a time that I did not celebrate this wonderful day. Nor can I imagine ever thinking that Santa Claus was simply a person that brought children presents. I owe that to my parents and to my great-aunt, Nanny Netta.
And, I've come to understand as I've grown in age that Santa Claus was formed from many similarities that St. Nicholas' possessed, the two remain separate in my mind and heart. Although I do realize what a brilliant and wonderful man St. Nicholas was and know without a shadow of a doubt how very real he was and how very real his spirit continues to be. It is true that, his spirit lives on today...especially during this celebration of his own special day.
I can hardly think of a day more special to me. When I was small child my Great Aunt, Nanny Netta, wrote a poem for my cousins and me about this night. She did not want us to forget the way that this evening is to be celebrated. Nor did she want us to ever lack the knowledge of the religious aspects of this time of year, nor the Saint Nicholas.
So she dedicated the poem to us. As I grew up, my Momma dutifully pulled out this poem each year. It's attached to piece of green yarn and hung it to our front door. I can still remember the excitement that I felt over knowing that not only was St. Nicholas day coming soon, but also that my Nanny Netta cared enough about me and my cousins to write this poem for us.
And, I've come to understand as I've grown in age that Santa Claus was formed from many similarities that St. Nicholas' possessed, the two remain separate in my mind and heart. Although I do realize what a brilliant and wonderful man St. Nicholas was and know without a shadow of a doubt how very real he was and how very real his spirit continues to be. It is true that, his spirit lives on today...especially during this celebration of his own special day.
I can hardly think of a day more special to me. When I was small child my Great Aunt, Nanny Netta, wrote a poem for my cousins and me about this night. She did not want us to forget the way that this evening is to be celebrated. Nor did she want us to ever lack the knowledge of the religious aspects of this time of year, nor the Saint Nicholas.
So she dedicated the poem to us. As I grew up, my Momma dutifully pulled out this poem each year. It's attached to piece of green yarn and hung it to our front door. I can still remember the excitement that I felt over knowing that not only was St. Nicholas day coming soon, but also that my Nanny Netta cared enough about me and my cousins to write this poem for us.
I may slightly misquote the poem, but the essence of it is this...
A little while 'fore Christmas, 'fore Santa comes to call,
a tall and bearded, saintly man will come to visit all the
boys and girls who love him and who try to do what's good,
the ones who've asked God's blessing and have done the things they should.
This night our saint is searching for the shoes of many feet,
Who walk along the path of God and leave their footprints in his name.
So kneel tonight and say your prayers and at the break of day,
you'll find a great surprise: Saint Nicholas passed your way.
He touched your feet, and touched your hands,
as he knelt beside your bed, and so you'd use them wisely,
he traced a blessing on your head.
But he wanted you to know he'd been there to visit you.
So before he turned to leave, he left some goodies in your
shoe.
A little while 'fore Christmas, 'fore Santa comes to call,
a tall and bearded, saintly man will come to visit all the
boys and girls who love him and who try to do what's good,
the ones who've asked God's blessing and have done the things they should.
This night our saint is searching for the shoes of many feet,
Who walk along the path of God and leave their footprints in his name.
So kneel tonight and say your prayers and at the break of day,
you'll find a great surprise: Saint Nicholas passed your way.
He touched your feet, and touched your hands,
as he knelt beside your bed, and so you'd use them wisely,
he traced a blessing on your head.
But he wanted you to know he'd been there to visit you.
So before he turned to leave, he left some goodies in your
shoe.
So tonight, I find myself pondering our poem anew and wondering how I can best bring my husband into celebrating this lovely tradition, of remembering St. Nicholas and the things he's done. This occasion is a particularly relevant time to do so....and as I ponder it occurs to me that perhaps tonight, St Nicholas (with some help from his little friends) should leave my dear husband some goodies in his shoes, and a copy of my best memory of this poem.
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