Christmas Family Time

I am at a daughter’s house surrounded by multiple daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren. It is noisy, wild, uncontrolled, and multi-colored. Yes, multi-colored. I am a typical brown Latino, and I ended up marrying a blue-eyed taller-than-I-am white woman. As a result, our children come in a variety of colors. They, in their turn married with variety. So, I have from classic olive-skinned clearly Latino grandchildren to almost blond blue-eyed clearly almost Swedish grandchildren. And, yes, my wife does have both Swedish and German in her background, that is if Ancestry.com can be trusted.

They come in a variety of temperaments as well as a plethora of colors. I just had a granddaughter chasing me with a toy plastic chainsaw. Makes me wonder what movies she has been watching. Another granddaughter is sitting across the table from me. She is this quiet introspective person whom I do not know as well as I wish because she is such a clear non-sharing introvert. She is 17 and has been in love with the same boy since she was 12. They were not allowed to date back then, not that it ever stopped them. She has a will strong as iron

Running around are various typical grandchildren of younger ages. They have to be monitored because they do not know correct behavior. So, they yell at each other, take toys away from each other, laugh together, make each other cry, and generally have a crazy good time from which future good memories will be built.

And so, I look around and find myself happy, with a quiet happiness that needs no explanation. I see our children relaxing with each other and yelling at their children when they misbehave. I see grandchildren learning how to relate with each other as family. And, I remember.

I remember being a young (9-year-old) immigrant. I remember an orphanage. I remember a foster home. I remember our mother being able to take us back once she learned the language and picked up a job that she could use to support us. I remember being poor. I remember taking care of my sister sometimes while our mother worked in the evening.

But, that is the past. I look around now to riches. It has not been just my mother, my sister, and I for many decades. What I see now is the result of many years of blessings from Our Lord, and I am truly grateful. We have been the recipients of much grace and the subject of much intercession from the Virgin Mary, the Saints, and many friends.

And so, I finish this post with the same thought as Tiny Tim of A Christmas Carol fame. “God bless us, every one!”