| Stories & Columns The Literary Divide: A retrospective on 2007, by Paul Barrows Interstate Impact (Part 2), by Jonathan Gramling What Kwanzaa is all about, by Laura Salinger Politicas de hoy: Foro Republicano: Ron Paul el mas cuerdo, por Alfonso Zepeda Capistran Asian Wisconzine: PAMANA celebrates Maligayang Pasko! by Heidi M. Pascual Simple Things: Christmas Tree, by Lang Kenneth Haynes Voices: New Year may bring, by Jean Daniels WWOCN Women United, by Jonathan Gramling WWOCN: God Women, by Cecilia Leon Kwanzaa Holiday Fair, by Jonathan Gramling Old time Kwanzaa feeling, by Jonathan Gramling China Dispatch: Leaving Changjiang, by Andrew Gramling Interfaith Awareness Week, by Laura Salinger Navigating the world of literary agents, authors, by Ike Anyanike Organ donations in the African American community (Part 2), by Jonathan Gramling ARCHIVES Editorial Staff Jonathan Gramling Publisher & Editor Heidi Manabat Managing Editor Clarita G. Mendoza Sales Manager Contributing Writers Paul Barrows Jean Daniels Andrew Gramling Lang Kenneth Haynes Heidi M. Pascual Laura Salinger Alfonso Zepeda Capistran |
| Happy Holidays! Madison celebrates religious and cultural holidays |
| Reflections/Jonathan D. Gramling Happy Holidays! |
| Life has a way of coming full circle. I remember the holiday celebrations of my youth. After a glorious Christmas Eve where my brothers and sisters — there are eight of us — would play for hours with the presents that Santa Claus had brought us. The celebration would come to a halt as Midnight Mass approached and some would don heavy coats and scarves to trudge into the cold and snow for mass and to remember the real meaning behind Christmas. The next day, we would have special treats in the morning, fresh kuchen, a German pastry that my mom would bake the Saturday before. There would be plenty of sausages and eggs and all kinds of good things to eat. And as we played with our new toys, there would sit my Uncle John in the family room, silently taking in all of the commotion that existed throughout the household. My Uncle John — my mom’s brother — would take the train from Chicago and spend Christmas Day with us. He was a bachelor banker. He had a wonderful mane of wavy white hair and an equally white mustache. He was a very kind soul and had a gentle heart. My mom was his favorite, perhaps because she was the youngest child growing up in a household without a mother and he was the oldest child. He paid my mom’s way through college during the Great Depression. And he was a regular fixture on Christmas Day until he retired and moved to California. Over the course of the years, I was married, had a step daughter and a son and got divorced — the same that happens to about half of the marriages in the U.S. every year. And it was my turn to watch as my children opened their gifts and played for hours before we hurriedly got our things together and made the trip down to Milwaukee to spend Christmas Eve with the extended family. And now, my son lives in China half the world away. And I will be going down to the Milwaukee area on Christmas Eve to again spend part of the holiday with my brothers and sisters and their children. But as my hair continues to gray and whiten and as I see those streaks of white in my mustache, I think about my Uncle John and wonder if perhaps it is I who will one day sit at the home of one of my brothers and sisters and watch their grandchildren open presents and play all day on Christmas Day. I used to wonder how my Uncle John felt. Now I am beginning to see that I will, in all too short of a time, know. The other week, I was invited to speak at the men’s homeless shelter at Grace Episcopal Church just off the square. A friend of mine, Jeri Ware, had always loved a column I wrote back in 2000 called ‘The Obsession,’ about my efforts to give up cigarette smoking. Well, as a member of Tobacco Free Dane County, she scheduled a time for us to come into the shelter and talk to the 30 plus men who were using the shelter that night. You could say I was the lead-off act and then Jeri gave a presentation followed by a demonstration of the ravages of cigarette smoking on a real diseased lung. As I stood there talking to the men, surrounded by bunk beds and the chatter of card playing residents in the background, a part of my mind was wondering where do they come from and where do they go? And on holidays like Christmas, are there good memories that they conjure up from their youth? Is there something special that they do on Christmas Day? Is there someplace special they go to make it something special? And do they have the occasion to exchange gifts or w2atch happy children play with their gifts before sitting down to breakfast to feast on sausages, eggs and kuchen? When we are young, we so take for granted all of the happy times that we have and feel that those good times will go on forever, especially if those are the only kinds of Christmases that they have ever known. But life does change and people fall on hard times or families disperse to the ends of the earth. During the past few weeks, I have talked with people who have lost siblings during the past year. Nothing is guaranteed to last. And so this holiday season, cherish your loved ones because they are the most precious gift you will ever receive on this earth. Hold them close and enjoy! Happy Holidays and Kwanzaa and Merry Christmas and have a happy New Year! |
12/21/07 Archives
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