Mary, the Holy Mother of God

Mary, the Holy Mother of God

Num. 6:22-27; Gal. 4:4-7; Lk. 2:16-21

As we stand at the threshold of a brand-new year, it is with heartfelt joy and anticipation that I extend my warmest wishes to you. The turning of the calendar is not merely a mark of time but a canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of our dreams, aspirations, and shared experiences.

Once upon a time, in a quaint village nestled between rolling hills and babbling brooks, there stood an ancient oak tree. This wise old oak had weathered countless seasons, witnessed the passing of generations, and silently observed the ebb and flow of life.

As the villagers gathered at the village square one New Year's Eve, the elder of the community, a venerable woman named Elara, invited everyone to sit in the shade of the old oak. She spoke with a voice seasoned by time and wisdom.

Elara began to tell the tale of the Old Oak Tree. She recounted how, in its youth, the tree was a mere sapling, facing storms and droughts that threatened its existence. Yet, with each challenge, the oak grew stronger, its roots burrowing deeper into the earth.

The Holy Family (A)

 Sir 3:2-6, 12-14; Col 3:12-21;   Mt 2:13-15, 19-23

Exile, deportation and seeking asylum in other countries have been common in our history.  Wars and civil strife have torn apart many families, and separated parents and children, brothers and sisters, or husbands and wives for many years, and, often, perpetually. 

The story of Boris and Anna Kozlov is very touching. Boris and Anna Kozlov were married in 1946.  After three days Boris had to ship out with his Red Army unit.  By the time he returned, Anna was gone, consigned by Stalin’s purges to internal exile in Siberia with the rest of her family. Nobody knew where the family was, or what had happened to Anna... Boris became frantic. He tried everything he could to find his young bride, but it was in vain. She was gone. 

After 60 years, one day, Anna Kozlov caught sight of the elderly man clambering out of a car in her home village of Borovlyanka in Siberia. There, in front of her, was Boris. An extraordinary coincidence leads them both to return to their home village on the very same day. 60 years of separation has made their reunion inexpressibly joyful.

Christmas (A) Dawn

Isaiah 62:11–12; Titus 3:4–7; Luke 2:15–20

There is a beloved story told in many cultures about a poor young girl who longed to bring a gift to the newborn King. In one version, she has nothing—no gold, no silver, no fine clothes, no precious spices. As she watches others go to visit the Christ Child, her heart aches. She sits alone by the roadside feeling the cold morning dew. Suddenly, she sees a small shivering bird lying in the grass, unable to fly. Moved with compassion, she picks it up gently, warms it in her hands, and wraps it close to her heart. When she finally arrives at the stable, she is embarrassed that she has nothing worthy to offer—only a tiny bird. But when she kneels before the manger, the bird begins to sing the sweetest melody the people had ever heard, a song full of pure, trembling joy. The Child Jesus smiles, and the entire stable brightens. The girl realizes that what she thought was nothing became everything when offered with love. That is why Christmas is so beautiful—it teaches us that the smallest acts of love, offered from the heart, become the greatest gifts to God.