ACADEMY OF MEAL - E 'Natale! It 's Christmas! GREETINGS Already, but what about Christmas?
I knew (or thought I knew) that the Christmas that is celebrated on December 25, is a special day, the day when we remember an important anniversary, no less than the birth Jesus the Saviour.
Besides the name "Christmas" is nothing but an abbreviation for "Christmas Day", as if to say, the day of the birth more important for Christians, the Birth to Autónomas as Chi One who is born will defeat death.
This, and nothing less than this, was the Christmas of my childhood, my parents and children and their parents and so on, proceeding backward in time almost to the beginnings of Christianity.
the evening of Christmas Eve, Holy Night, the family always found time to meet in a short meditation before the nativity scene, nativity scene that the parents, aided by younger, had taken steps to set up in previous days.
In my house there were strict rules about this. After the mother had delivered the surface of the chest that sat in the hall (And that would have been the only place fit for purpose, the theater of passion play), the father pulled out of the box where the statues had been lying forgotten for a year and examined them one by one to see if they were not damaged in somewhere. I, for my part, I was already busy in the days before the hard part: finding the moss. The moss! Moss, today say lifting the air with nose in disgust on hearing the vulgar word, but, believe me: it was not moss, not least what I found. I found the beautiful moss, nothing more and nothing less, fat, wet, green as an emerald green lizard from the skin of healthy and fragrant earth winter. Puts it, divided into large sheets, in a bag of fabric and dancing on the construction of the Nativity was pulling out, available to the father and mother who prepared her chest carefully on the surface of which it was completely covered except for the part where it would go to the hut and a more central rotunda, where her mother put a small circular mirror that served as a pond. The hut was put in a corner, in full view of anyone entering, and inside was a small light bulb, hidden in a small light lit up the widespread and mysterious. Branched off from the door of hut made of sawdust and a road behind the cottage was made with paper parcels across a twisted and steep mountain slopes where to place at the discretion of sheep and shepherds. The shepherds were there, in unstable equilibrium and in certain poses that were almost so little spontaneous affection, who turned to the right, who left as if looking for a way to get from that awkward position where someone had kicked them while the sheep were lying scattered in the rocks here and there like fish out of water, even if the contract were to browse to anything, was to swear that the grass in those places, there was even a shadow.
Nearby the hut of the Nativity, great ferment. A sparse crowd of laundresses, pastors, clerks, housewives, farmers wandered cheerful air and pulled around. There were also a grinder, a storyteller, an Arabian camel, a black boy, and a fisherman with a lot of barrel (fished in the mirror), as domestic animals and poultry, galore. Turkeys, geese, pigs, goats, cows everywhere, and even camels, camels and an elephant. A swan plastic (match with the rest of the company) wallowing in the water of the pond proud and decent (always the mirror).
Father for the last cottage available to the protagonists in the whole scene: Mary, Joseph, the ox and the donkey, mentre la paglia dove dopo mezzanotte sarebbe stato deposto il Bambin Gesù restava nel frattempo desolatamente vuota, e c’era da chiedersi perché Maria e Giuseppe restassero inginocchiati e in atteggiamento adorante davanti ad un giaciglio dove ancora non c’era nessuno, ma forse già presagivano chi sarebbe arrivato e non volevano farsi trovare impreparati... Per finire sul tetto della capannuccia si incollava una fiammante Stella Cometa (di cartone ricoperto di lustrini) mentre i Tre Re Magi, per far parte della bella compagnia, dovevano rassegnarsi ad aspettare ancora qualche giorno perché nel Presepio prima del giorno dell’Epifania la mamma, custode ed interprete delle Scritture come una Cristiana della prima ora, non c’era that we put into them.
And like mine, every family had its own crib, and every church, every school, every frat circle ... I remember every Christmas Eve I and my friends went to church (at Siena Like to churches, at least then) to visit the Nativity, and there were those famous, some musical, some artistic, monumental and living ...
night, we children went in bed all excited: that we would take the strain? The strain was the popular abbreviation of Christmas, it was said "Pel strain is everyone in the family," or even "Soon is the strain" and I think probably the word derived from the custom of putting the rural heart of the family a nice block of wood on Christmas Eve. Santa Claus no, that was not yet born.
The next day we kids just get up, go! Still barefoot, with his mother behind us shouting: "Get your shoes, your cool!" S'arrivava in a flash before the fire and there were gifts. Well, maybe I should say "the" more than a gift because it was difficult to find. Once a train, another gun with lightning strip, then gradually you learn to read, came At 12 books ... we went to the cathedral for the Mass and in the afternoon to tour some of the relatives who, in exchange for a "Merry Christmas, Uncle" and a hasty embrace, you always stretched. Ah, I forgot to lunch that day was the legendary baked chicken with roasted potatoes, and finish the gingerbread and ricciarelli ... What a great Christmas! What a beautiful Christmas! What a fantastic, wonderful, unforgettable Christmas!
Then, slowly, disguised as a commercial transaction but planned as a military campaign, it came, slowly, secretly, but quite resolved to prevail, the real enemy of Christmas is true: the fat dall'occhietti mushrooms and purple nose, the big joker covertly pedophile dressed all in red with a leather belt and boots to his knees, was quite happy with the candid expression witty and well-kept homeless covertly camaraderie, the explosive was not averse to-be- knows-where to oust from his pedestal made of real history, felt religion, popular culture and sound the dear old crib, he was Santa Claus!
nothing was before. The lecherous old man took possession of beating the Christmas crib and replacing the humble popular religion the disruptive power of thousands of commercial products advertised everywhere with persuasive advertising campaigns but obsessive and relentless. Santa! But what he wants? How was it allowed this tasteless gadget Coca-Cola to replace none other than Baby Jesus?
do not know, nobody knows. I only know that has been done and that by Dec. 25 anniversary of a historical fact and religious has become a happening of the most useless and unbridled consumerism, in the likeness of Mother's Day or Father's one, a kind of Day Gift or expenditure at all costs.
... ... ...
Baby Jesus was born today, as over two thousand years ago, in a manger. A little more just, a bit more but forgotten today, as then, is born to us, to die for us to offer, for no apparent reason and without any merit on our part, despite and in spite of us Santa Claus, nothing less than salvation , nothing less than eternity.
Thank you, Jesus
