Lent at the North Pole

It is the first Friday of Lent.

During Lent many Catholics give up things, perform some sort of sacrifice to help prepare us for the the great gift of Easter.

Well, even Santa does something. Or several things.

Over the years I've given up things - like, coffee, hot chocolate, even cookies! I've also tried to do new things - like spending time in the chapel praying every day, more doing more spiritual reading.

This year, I wasn't sure what to do. Then my darling wife gave me an idea.

We were at the post office picking up the latest sack - at this time of the year, mostly thanks for gifts received, but some ambitious souls are already sending in the lists for next Christmas!

I thanked the clerks and we started walking home.

"You always receive so many letters," my lovely bride observed.

"Yes, yes. It's good to hear from so many people."

"Do you ever write to people yourself?" She asked.

"What?"

"Do you ever write to people to thank them for something they did or said?"

That got me thinking. Yes, I do bring gifts - a way to thank people, I guess. But a note?

So this Lent, I've decided that every day I will sent a note of thanks to someone for something that person did. A courteous clerk. A person who made room to let a motorist turn on to a busy road. A writer who made me smile or think.

The notes don't have to be long. They can be by mail or e-mail - or even a scribbled note.

I'm looking for the person to thank today.

Maybe it will be you!

(Oh, and by the way, I also gave up snacking in the evening and have made some extra time to do more spiritual reading.)

Sleep

Although I don't get sick, I do get tired. In dealing with our visitors, an all the elves down with the flu, I grew so tired I started nodding off while drinking my hot chocolate last night. I went to bed, and slept through until it was almost time for Mass. I made it - but started nodding off during Father's homily - and he is a fine preacher.

This afternoon I spent more time visiting the sick elves. Then I had some papers to complete for the end of the season.

Now, I sit here, ready for bed again.

Good night all.

More flu

I will continue the tale of our visitors ... but I've spent much of the day helping to care for sick elves! The flu has spread and we have some very sick folk.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Unexpected visitors

Usually the workshop is hard to find. There's a special magic about the place that seems to fool people's eyes.

It was the smell that gave us away.

I was busy finishing up my Feast of the Epiphany activities, and the elves were preparing a celebration for the end of this year's Christmas season. Cookies, gingerbread, and other sweet delicacies were being baked, and the scents of those delicacies wafted across the ice fields. It was a balmy day by our standards - -12 degrees with occasional light snow, but not much, and no wind to speak of.

Suddenly an alarm bell rang.

Guard elves rushed out to see four figures walking across the ice toward the workshop buildings. It was too late to stop them, or even to trick them.

Gleegul, the head of security, order the intruders to halt, then led them to the town constable's office. There, the visitors, who turned out to be four young men, were questioned.

All this was reported to me when I returned from my trip.

I decided to meet with them.

When I walked into the constable's office, the four men looked at me with a mixture of disbelief, and what I can best describe as defeat. except for one fellow who smiled in a way that made me uneasy.

"I told you there was a chance," one of them said.

"He doesn't prove anything," another said.

"I'm not here to prove anything, " I said, smiling bravely. "I'm just here to welcome you."

The third young man advanced toward me, his hand out.

"David George," he said as I grasped his hand.

"Nicholas," I replied.

The other three came forward, shook, and announce their names.

Tom George.

Bill Wendell.

Nick Parmelee.

(more tomorrow)

Flu!

Santa sometimes gets run down - but he rarely gets sick.

Alas, that's not the case of the elves.

Just as were were readying for the final celebration of the season, the Feast of the Epiphany, a number of the elves came down with the flu.

They will be fine - we have excellent doctors here at the North Pole - but that means Mrs. Claus and I have had to help even more with preparing the gifts for Epiphany. I took a break to grab a cup of hot chocolate and update this blog , and I notice red paint on my fingers as I type.

Hmm. Seems to be some in my beard as well!

The Naughty List Lasts Only a Year

For many years now we've had a New Year's tradition: We burn the Naughty List.

Everyone who was on the list for Christmas gets a new chance to start over in the new year.

It all started when the list was much smaller - the world had fewer people, and fewer people identified as Christians who observed Christmas. When cleaning up after Christmas each year I just tossed the Naughty List into my fire place.

The Nice lists, by the way, I always saved. I still have them all!

Over the years, though, the Naughty List got longer. And the work began to involved more than me - the elves came to keep up with the demand.

So we started a little ceremony of burning the list. Gradually it became part of our New Year's celebration, and the list would be tossed on the bonfire we built to mark the new year.

The lists got longer - alas - and the fire became bigger, as did the amount of smoke it produced. We became more conscious of the pollution we were causing. And then, when there were planes and satellites up in the air, we realized that the smoke might be spotted and the site of the North Pole Workshop discovered.

So we stopped burning them on the big fire. Instead, the list was spit up among all the homes and workshops for burning, and a representative list was burned as part of the New Year's celebration.

Now, of course, the list is all computerized: No burning needed. Just hit "Delete."

We have kept the burning tradition alive, though.

And so it was on New Year's Eve when the elves, Mrs. Claus, and I all gathered to mark the new year's arrival we had a nice fire in the main hall, and I tossed a representative Naughty List onto the fire.

So all you boys and girls have a fresh start. Get on the Nice List this year!

January 1 - A Gift of Mead

Sometimes Santa gets gifts. Last might I enjoyed one.

My bush pilot friend, Zbigniew Ting, made a delivery here December 24. He gave my darling wife a gift for me to hide under our tree.

I finally got to open my gifts after all my deliveries - and amid all the wonderful things given to me by my family and the good elves, and in addition to the many delightful gifts sent me by the children of the world, there was one the one from Zbigniew.

A bottle of mead.

Honey wine.

Seems he was in Western New York and found a place that produced fine mead. Knowing my fondness for this sweet drink, he bought me a bottle.

Last night to toast the New Year I opened the bottle and had a glass of mead.

Ah. Thank you Zbigniew. You must stop by for a glass yourself.