Philippine Christmas

Christmas: A National Fiesta

The Philippines, similarly to Spain,  has one of the longest and merriest Christmas celebration. It begins formally on December 16 with the first of nine pre-dawn or early morning masses and continues on nonstop until the first Sunday of January, Feast of the Three Kings, the official end of the season. 

Being  a predominantly Roman Catholic country, the only Asian country where Christians predominate,  Christmas, therefore, is an extremely important and revered holiday for most Filipinos.  It is a time for family, for sharing, for giving, and a time for food, fun, and friendship.

The bamboo parol (pah-role), or star lantern, is the symbol of Christmas in the Philippines, representing the guiding light, the star of Bethlehem.   It emits a warmth unparalleled among holiday adornments and is unique to the Philippines.  Many Filipinos make their own lantern and it is common to compete in making the best lantern.

Recently, Filipinos have begun choosing wreaths and other decorations made with local native materials rather than those patterned after western designs.  And many houses, particularly those in the urban areas are strung with tiny multi-colored lights both inside and out. Most Filipinos think that decorating their homes for the Christmas holidays is a must.

Filipino Christmas Traditions

Christmas in the Philippines is a mixture of Western and native Filipino traditions.  Santa Claus, the Christmas tree, sending Christmas cards, and singing carols have all been inherited from the cultures of the West.   However, these have all been  adapted to fit the nature and personality of the Filipino people.

Christmas Eve in the Philippines is one of the traditions most families celebrate.  It is a night without sleep and a continuous celebration moving right into Christmas Day.  As December 24th dawns, the last Mass of Simbang Gabi is attended; then preparation begins for Noche Buena, which is a family feast that takes place after midnight.

The Noche Buena is very much like an open house celebration.  Family, friends, relatives, and neighbors drop by to wish every family member "Maligayang Pasko" (Merry Christmas).  Food is  in abundance, often served in buffet style.   Guests or visitors partake of the food prepared by the host family (even though they are already full or bloated!). 

Among the typical foods prepared in the Philippines during Christmas are: lechon (roasted pig), pancit, barbecue, rice, adobo, cakes (Western and native rice cakes), lumpia, etc.  There is also an abundance of San Miguel beer, wine, and liquor, which makes the celebration of Christmas indeed intoxicating!  

Christmas day is a popular day for children to visit their uncles, aunts, godmothers, and godfathers.  At each home they are presented with a gift, usually candy, money,  or a small toy.  Food and drinks are also offered at each stop.  It is a day of family closeness, and everyone wishes good cheer and glad tidings.

In the Philippines the countdown to New Year varies depending on family or even region. At the strike of midnight, the noise becomes deafening with firecrackers shooting and blooming in the sky while everyone gape in awe.

The banging and booming rise to a climax as people make noise by clanging old pots and pans, blowing a jeepney, car or tricycle’s horns, using assorted whistles, firecrackers to any kind of noise both awful or simply maddening. For children who wishes to grow taller in the new year, adults cajole them to jump 12 times around midnight in hopes of getting their wish fulfilled. Similar to other Asian countries, the loud noises and sounds of merrymaking are not only meant to celebrate the New Year but are supposed to drive away bad spirits.

After midnight the family also gather for a thanksgiving feast called Media Noche (midnight meal). Filipinos believe having a food-laden dinner table augurs well for the coming year and brings good luck. At least 12 round fruits are placed in the fruit basket as a sign of prosperity for the next 12 months. All-time favourite dishes such as noodles (for long life), pork, beef, chicken, rice cakes and assorted sweets are served. For Catholics there is also a midnight mass to welcome the New Year.

Long live Philippine festive traditions!

Source:  Philippine Christmas

              365 Great Pinoy Stuff

Christmas in Spain

Source:  Deck the holidays

Christmas is a deeply religious holiday in Spain. The country's patron saint is the Virgin Mary and the Christmas season officially begins December 8, the feast of the Immaculate Conception. It is celebrated each year in front of the great Gothic cathedral in Seville with a ceremony called los Seises or the "dance of six." Oddly, the elaborate ritual dance is now performed by not six but ten elaborately costumed boys. It is a series of precise movements and gestures and is said to be quite moving and beautiful.

Typical X'mas delicacies

Christmas Eve is known as Nochebuena or "the Good Night." It is a time for family members to gather together to rejoice and feast around the Nativity scenes that are present in nearly every home. A traditional Christmas treat is turron, a kind of almond candy.

December 28 is the feast of the Holy Innocents. Young boys of a town or village light bonfires and one of them acts as the mayor who orders townspeople to perform civic chores such as sweeping the streets. Refusal to comply results in fines which are used to pay for the celebration.

As in many European countries, the children of Spain receive gifts on the feast of the Epiphany. The Magi are particularly revered in Spain. It is believed that they travel through the countryside reenacting their journey to Bethlehem every year at this time. Children leave their shoes on the windowsills and fill them with straw, carrots, and barley or the horses of the Wise Men. Their favorite is Balthazar who rides a donkey and is the one believed to leave the gifts.

Source:  Christmas Around the World

Celebrating Christmas is a joyful event and it is filled with a lot of food preparation and gathering with family and friends.  For those of us who have emigrated to a different country to raise our own family, we tend to adapt our traditions to those observed where  we have  settled in.  But no matter where we are, the feeling of joy is still the same, for it is the  festive event of the birth of our Saviour that kindles the special gladness that comes only once a year specially on Christmas day.  Peace and joy to men.

A Soldier's Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and he lived all alone

In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney with presents to give

And to see just whom in this home did live.

I looked all about and a strange sight did I see

No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by the mantle, just boots filled with sand

On the wall hung pictures of a far distant land.

With medals and badges, awards of all kinds

A sober thought came to my mind

For this house was different, dark and dreary

It was the house of a soldier, I now could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone

Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle, the room in disorder

Not how I pictured a United States soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I had read?

Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families I saw on this night

Owed their lives to this soldier who was willing to fight.

Soon ‘round the world the children would play

And grown-ups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom, each month of the year

Because of the soldiers like the one laying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone

On a cold Christmas Eve in a land from home.

The very thought brought a tear to my eye

And I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice

”Santa, don’t cry, this life is my choice.

I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more

My life is my God, my Country, my Corps.”

The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep

And I couldn’t control it, I started to weep.

I kept watch for hours, so silent and still

And we both shivered from the cold night’s chill.

I didn’t want to leave on that cold, dark night

This Guardian of Honor so willing to fight.

The soldier rolled over and with a voice soft and pure

Whispered, “Carry on, Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all is secure.”

One look at my watch and I knew he was right

Merry Christmas, my friend, and to all a Good Night.

This poem was submitted by a Soldier stationed in Iraq.

The following is his request. I think it is reasonable.....

"PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor

of sending this to as many people

as you can? Christmas will be coming

soon and some credit is due to our

service men and women for our being able

to celebrate these festivities."

Let's try in this small way to pay a

tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and

think of our heroes, living and dead,

who sacrificed themselves.

Please pass it on to all your friends and family...

Source: Net Hugs.com

Hallelujah

Flash mob sings Hallelujah chorus in food court.


Posted By jamesw72 about a year ago from jamesw72 on GodTube.

At noon on November 13, 2010 unsuspecting shoppers got a surprise while enjoying their lunch. A flash mob singing the Hallelujah Chorus!

This should be done in all cities and spread the good tidings of the birth of the most important "Someone" in our lives.

Happy Christmas to all.

The Little Match Girl - Hans Christian Andersen

Source of Image:  El Mundo.es

Once upon a time . . . a little girl tried to make a living by selling matches in the street.

It was New Year's Eve and the snowclad streets were deserted. From brightly lit windows came the tinkle of laughter and the sound of singing. People were getting ready to bring in the New Year. But the poor little matchseller sat sadly beside the fountain. Her ragged dress and worn shawl did not keep out the cold and she tried to keep her bare feet from touching the frozen ground. She hadn't sold one box of matches all day and she was frightened to go home, for her father would certainly be angry. It wouldn't be much warmer anyway, in the draughty attic that was her home. The little girl's fingers were stiff with cold. If only she could light a match! But what would her father say at such a waste! Falteringly she took out a match and lit it. What a nice warm flame! The little matchseller cupped her hand over it, and as she did so, she magically saw in its light a big brightly burning stove.

She held out her hands to the heat, but just then the match went out and the vision faded. The night seemed blacker than before and it was getting colder. A shiver ran through the little girl's thin body.

After hesitating for a long time, she struck another match on the wall, and this time, the glimmer turned the wall into a great sheet of crystal. Beyond that stood a fine table laden with food and lit by a candlestick. Holding out her arms towards the plates, the little matchseller seemed to pass through the glass, but then the match went out and the magic faded. Poor thing: in just a few seconds she had caught a glimpse of everything that life had denied her: warmth and good things to eat. Her eyes filled with tears and she lifted her gaze to the lit windows, praying that she too might know a little of such happiness.

She lit the third match and an even more wonderful thing happened. There stood a Christmas tree hung with hundreds of candles, glittering with tinsel and coloured balls. "Oh, how lovely!" exclaimed the little matchseller, holding up the match. Then, the match burned her finger and flickered out. The light from the Christmas candles rose higher and higher, then one of the lights fell, leaving a trail behind it. "Someone is dying," murmured the little girl, as she remembered her beloved Granny who used to say: "When a star falls, a heart stops beating!"

Scarcely aware of what she was doing, the little matchseller lit another match. This time, she saw her grandmother.

"Granny, stay with me!" she pleaded, as she lit one match after the other, so that her grandmother could not disappear like all the other visions. However, Granny did not vanish, but gazed smilingly at her. Then she opened her arms and the little girl hugged her crying: "Granny, take me away with you!"

A cold day dawned and a pale sun shone on the fountain and the icy road. Close by lay the lifeless body of a little girl surrounded by spent matches. "Poor little thing!" exclaimed the passersby. "She was trying to keep warm!"

But by that time, the little matchseller was far away where there is neither cold, hunger nor pain.

Source: Kaboose

Christmas to many consists of a lot of buying, spending and eating, however there are a lot more of those who can only look at windows to see what they cannot have and much less eat. Let us remember the sadness in some other people hearts this Christmas and help to make some needy people smile in our own way and make a difference. These people can be nameless just like the story of Hans Christian Anderson, because they can be anybody around us waiting for a chance to have a different day.

A Meaningful Christmas Tradition

Image from photobucket

It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas---oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black.

These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.

It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."

Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.

That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.

On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me.

His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.

For each Christmas, I followed the tradition---one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal it's contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.

You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad.

Source:  Bienvenido E. Estipona

Every family keeps its Christmas tradition, but in as much as we all would like to stick to our own tradition, sometimes there are occasions when we cannot do so by force of circumstances.  All we can do is to look forward to the next Christmas hoping that by then, things will work out just as we want them to be and be able to get back to tradition.

A Christmas Memory by Truman Capote

Image courtesy of Random House

A Christmas Memory" is a short story by Truman Capote. Originally published in Mademoiselle magazine in December 1956, it was reprinted in The Selected Writings of Truman Capote in 1963. It was issued in a stand-alone hardcover edition by Random House in 1966, and it has been published in many editions and anthologies since.

The largely autobiographical story, which takes place in the 1930s, describes a period in the lives of the seven-year-old narrator and an elderly woman (in her 60's)  who is his distant cousin and best friend. The evocative narrative focuses on country life, friendship, and the joy of giving during the Christmas season, and it also gently yet poignantly touches on loneliness and loss.

Now a holiday classic, "A Christmas Memory" has been broadcast, recorded, filmed, and staged multiple times, in award-winning productions.

"A Christmas Memory" is about a young boy, referred to as "Buddy," and his older cousin, "Sook". The boy is the narrator, and his older cousin — who is eccentric and childlike — is his best friend. They live in a house with other relatives, who are authoritative and stern, and have a dog named Queenie.

The family is very poor, but Buddy looks forward to Christmas this year nevertheless, and he and his elderly cousin save their pennies for this occasion. Every year at Christmastime, Buddy and his friend collect raisins and buy whiskey — from a scary American Indian bootlegger named Haha Jones — and many other ingredients to make fruitcakes. They send the cakes to acquaintances they have met only once or twice, and to people they've never met at all, like President Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

This year, after the two have finished the elaborate four-day production of making fruitcakes, the elderly cousin decides to celebrate by finishing off the remaining whiskey in the bottle. This leads to the two of them becoming drunk, and being severely reprimanded by angry relatives.

The next day Buddy and his friend go to a faraway grove, which the elderly cousin has proclaimed the best place, by far, to chop down Christmas trees. They manage to take back a large and beautiful tree, despite the arduous trek back home.

They spend the following days making decorations for the tree and presents for the relatives, Queenie, and each other. Buddy and the older cousin keep their gifts to each other a secret, although Buddy assumes his friend has made him a kite, as she has for the last three years. He has made her a kite, too.

Come Christmas morning, the two of them are up at the crack of dawn, anxious to open their presents. Buddy is extremely disappointed, having received the rather dismal gifts of old hand-me-downs and a subscription to a religious magazine. His friend has gotten the somewhat better gifts of Satsuma oranges and hand-knitted scarves. Queenie gets a bone.

Then they exchange their joyful presents to each other: the two kites. In a beautiful hidden meadow, they fly the kites that day in the clear winter sky, while eating the older cousin's Christmas oranges. The elderly cousin thinks of this as heaven, and says that God and heaven must be like this.

It is their last Christmas together. The following year, the boy is sent to military school. Although Buddy and his friend keep up a constant correspondence, this is unable to last because his elderly cousin suffers more and more the ravages of old age, and slips into dementia. Soon, she is unable to remember who Buddy is, and not long after, she passes away.

As Buddy says later: "And when that happens, I know it. A message saying so merely confirms a piece of news some secret vein had already received, severing me from an irreplaceable part of myself, letting it loose like a kite string. That is why, walking across a school campus on this particular December morning, I keep searching the sky. As if I expected to see, rather like hearts, a lost pair of kites hurrying towards heaven."

Source: Wikipedia

No matter where we live or how old we are, Christmas memories from our childhood have a special glow about them.  It can be a longed-for gift we finally received, or gave to someone special. Christmas ornaments and decorations, the songs we play and sing, and even when we open our presents, these all form lasting memories and traditions. Whatever it is, we all try to remember  only the fond memory.

May you all cherish  beautiful Christmas memories  and pass them on.

The Gift

Christmas season is among us -
and shoppers are on the fly,
running around like crazy,
looking for gifts to buy.

Looking for that perfect gift -
it seems so hard to find,
to give to that special someone,
who lingers in your mind.

So out the door and to the store -
and to the Mall again,
got to find that perfect gift,
to give to that dear one.

Finally tired and all worn out -
and about to fall apart.
But if you look - it's always been,
right there within your heart!

A gift that money just can't buy -
for it comes from God above,
a gift to cherish for a lifetime,
it's called the "Gift" of love!

So if you can't find what you look for -
it won't be on your list.
You'll have to search from deep within,
to give someone the "Gift!"

Written and Submitted By:
Deacon Steve A. Politte (DeaconSteve)

Merry Christmas!

Source:  nethugs.com

Winter Time in New York

Rockefeller Center, NYC

Now, looking back 27 years ago since I have gone to live in New York city, I remember the hardship of the city life and the unbearable cold temperature I had to undergo  in wintertime.  It was the constant daily hustle of  rushing back and forth from work, specially complicated when it snowed and drizzled having to coordinate with an unbrella and at the same time making sure I did not fall on a slippery walk.  The tv dinners, I had to share with my roommate, when it was too cold to eat out and it was so cozy to get snugged in a warm blanket while enjoying a tv show.

But on a good winter day, it was fun watching the people skating in Rockefeller Center, while eating some charcoal roasted chestnuts.  As it was also fun, inspite of  having to get in long queue,  to finally get an entrance to  see a show in Broadway or in Radio City Music Hall with the stage that kept the audience at awe and with constant surprises everytime the curtains drew apart.  As it was also a great experience to watch so many elegant people just walking by in the plushy districts of the East Side in contrast with the creepy environment of some of the streets in the West End.

Finding bargains in some nooks and odd places were also a fun time specially when I needed something to wear urgently for one day and did not want to rent a dress but surprise a date with a different look.

I remember also  with nostalgia the happy times when I shared laughter and why not some tears with newly found friends.

But not to forget,  the scary moments when I had to be in the middle of two men shooting each other while I was behind a post trying to get out of range, or when I was being followed by a huge black man on 42nd street (which at that time was filled with sex shops and sex movies) only to discover later on  that he was just trying to make fun of my tiny steps, or while cycling in Central Park, a freaky guy would throw stones at me and run away.

Memories and experiences  gone by,  and yet somehow became a part of  who I am today.

Source of image:  El Mundo.es