December 21: To Mama Dollar and to Papa Dollar

"A toast!  A toast!  A toast to Mama Dollar and to Papa Dollar, and if you want to keep this old Building and Loan in business, you better have a family real quick." 

George celebrating with Mama and Papa

George Bailey keeps the Building and Loan afloat through the Stock Market Crash of 1929 and the Great Depression.  On October 24, 1929, a mob descends on his business, demanding their money.  Of course, George doesn't have it.  What he has is his money which he was about to spend on his honeymoon.  It amounts to about two thousand dollars.  At the end of the day, George has exactly two dollars left of that kitty.  He dubs those two bucks "Mama Dollar" and "Papa Dollar."  He makes the statement above and then parades around the office with Mama and Papa, as if he's in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.  He's full of joy and triumph.  Over two dollars.

I went home last night to my drafty old barn.  I wasn't in the greatest of spirits, if you couldn't tell by my last post.  I struggled to be happy and upbeat for my daughter and son.  They'd both had great days.  My daughter won a lunch with a local celebrity singer at school, and my son had his Christmas program at school.  My daughter was bouncing around the house, singing Christmas carols, and my son was chasing her.  I had to get them dressed in their Christmas outfits to take a picture in front of the tree, which was about the last thing I felt like doing.  I'd sort of lost my taste for Christmas.

But I got my son dressed up.  I combed out my daughter's hair and braided it.  I put them in front of our Christmas tree, and I snapped a bunch of pictures.  I don't know if any of the pictures are that good, but they're done.  Now I just have to get some printed for our Christmas cards.

I didn't parade around the house with the camera after I took the pictures.  I didn't feel like I'd accomplished anything of great importance.  No Mama Photo and Papa Photo.  I spent the rest of night trying to shake off the disappointing news about the mortgage.  It didn't work.  I went to sleep and had horrible dreams filled with dark bridges and homeless people.

I can't work up much enthusiasm this morning to finish my Christmas poem or think about choir practice tonight.  I'm not George Bailey.  At this point in my day, I can't celebrate the three dollars I have in my pocket, because I know they're not going to magically procreate.  Even sitting at the breakfast table this morning with my coworkers drove me crazy.  I couldn't stand listening to their talk about Christmas brunches and Christmas mornings and family squabbles.

I know I'm supposed to turn to God at times like this, put my faith in Him.  One of my best friends has had a really rough few years with her kids.  We're talking suicide attempts, hospitalizations, and rehab.  The last two years, she's come to church on Christmas Eve with her family.  This year, things are quiet for her.  No huge crises brewing.  She's not coming to church this Christmas Eve.  I guess she doesn't need to thank God for the fact that her life, at the moment, is peaceful.  God is only for times of turmoil and despair.

At one point in It's A Wonderful Life, George folds his hands and prays.  It's the first time he's ever turned to God.  Sitting in Mr. Martini's bar, George is at the absolute end of his rope.  He starts out his prayer with these words:  "Dear Father in Heaven, I'm not a praying man..."  Turmoil and despair can turn atheists into praying men and women.

For most of his life, George's motivating factor is money.  Not greed.  Money.  Enough money to provide for his family and friends.  He dreams of tons of cash to go on trips, buy expensive cars.  In the end, Mama Dollar and Papa Dollar abandon him.  Then he turns to God, and God comes through.

Saint Marty has been worrying too much about Mama and Papa Dollar.  Maybe he needs to visit Mr. Martini's bar.  Say a little prayer.