February 19: Blessed Elizabeth of Mantua

Well, today is the day.  I'm going to take the Christmas decorations down on my front porch.  I know what you're probably thinking:  are you lazy, stupid, or just getting a jump-start on next Christmas?  The answer is maybe, no, and that's not a bad idea.  But even my ten-year-old daughter has been saying, "When are we going to take the Christmas stuff down?"  So, today the porch gets undecorated.

One of the most popular Christmas stories is Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol.  Basically, the message of the novel is that you have to keep Christmas in your heart all year long.  After his redemption, Scrooge pretty much says that's what he's going to do.  I guess it's OK to treat every day like Christmas, do things like be kind to people, be generous, be jolly.  I suppose if you said "Merry Christmas" to people all year, you may be thought a little off-balance.  But if you leave Christmas decorations up until past Valentine's Day, suddenly your neighbors start worrying about their property values.

The Day of Undecoration, as it will henceforth be known, always makes me a little sad.  My front porch is the final vestige of a time of year when people have daily visual reminders to be kind to each other.  Saints don't need that kind of reminder.  If I were an actual saint, I'd probably glow like a Christmas tree, ooze peace like a Nativity scene or Christmas carol.  I, myself, would be the reminder.  Elizabeth, today's saint, was born in Mantua in 1428, and she had the Christmas-every-day thing down cold.  She was pretty much raised to be a saint.  Her father taught her Latin.  Her mother taught her how to meditate.  When Elizabeth became a nun, she was known for her "supernatural gifts."  That usually means she could do cool saint stuff like heal people and levitate.  She even predicted her own death a year before it happened, according to legend.  Elizabeth was a Christmas carol.  She reminded everyone around her about kindness, generosity, and joy.

Saint Marty says, "Merry Christmas!"



I'm going to listen to a Christmas CD while I'm working this afternoon.  I might even put on my Santa Claus hat.  For a half hour or so, I'm going to hold on to the holiday just a little longer.  If you see me today, I may wish you a "Merry Christmas."

Saint Marty isn't losing it.  He's just reminding himself to be a better person.