One Silent Night, Long Ago

It was Christmas Eve in France in December of 1944 during World War II . One 20-year-old American G.I. had the assignment of guarding a train station along the border of France and Germany, where his battalion was stationed. The young soldier was half a world away from his girlfriend and family in Pennsylvania, and was not very happy about the assignment and the lonely holiday ahead.

A young German family lived in an apartment above that train station on the border of the two countries that were at war. With the Americans patrolling the French border and the Germans patrolling the German border, this family was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. The resilient family was friendly and got to know the soldiers surrounding their home on both sides, even the Americans who by that time had learned enough German to communicate with them a little.

The American soldier was settling in for a long night when the 12-year-old daughter of the family greeted him from the window of her apartment. It seems that he might have a little company after all on this holiday. They talked a little, and then the young man thought of a way to celebrate the holiday even in this most unlikely time and place.

He began to sing:

Silent Night, Holy Night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child
Holy Infant, so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.

The little German girl responded:

Stille Nacht, heilege Nacht
Alles schaft, einsam wacht
Nur das traute hochheilege Paar
Holder Knabe mit lokkigem Haar
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh.

She had sung Silent Night back to him in German, and it moved the young soldier to tears. They continued like that, with the young man singing a Christmas carol in English, and the little girl singing it back to him in German. That little girl did not seem like the enemy to the soldier that Christmas Eve so long ago. They were just two kids singing the same holiday songs, just in different languages. He never forgot that Christmas Eve or the little girl.

That young soldier was my father, and he was telling me this story for the very first time last week, one week before our celebration of Christmas Eve this year.

Last month my husband and I were perusing the sheet music at Colony Records in New Year when I came across a copy of Schubert’s Ave Maria. We bought the sheet music that day so I could sing it for my father on Christmas Eve as one of his presents, with my husband accompanying me.

I knew that my father loved Ave Maria more than any other piece of music. I knew that he loved his daughters and all our accomplishments, and would love to hear me sing this song, even if I was no Nana Mouskouri. But I had no way of knowing how significant singing for my father on Christmas Eve would be.

Let Your Fingers Do the Shopping

Nothing was going to stand between me and my Holiday Season. Neither my bum knee (which is fine now, thanks) nor my seasonal allergies were going to keep me from my appointed rounds. This was because this year I decided that I could make those appointed rounds from the comfort of my own couch in my own home, armed with my laptop and my VISA card.

Yes, that is correct, my friends, this year I ventured into the Brave New World of On-Line Shopping. Oh, I had dipped my toe in that proverbial water in the past few years. I found that using the on-line shopping sites was a sensible and effective method of long-distance gift giving. It enabled me to order and send wrapped presents to family and friends who were out of town and it was not much more expensive and a lot less time-consuming than buying all the gifts and the wrapping apparatus and sending them myself.

My husband had already embraced on-line shopping for many of his purchases, and I would look on with envy as his packages from Amazon arrived, one after the other, at the house. I finally realized that there was no need for my on-line shopper’s envy. I had an active Amazon account of my very own. I, too, could shop without leaving the house. I rationalized that this would save my already compromised knee the wear and tear of literally beating the pavement searching for the perfect gift. Every single perfect gift is now available online.

I have found that online shopping is especially helpful when you have a very specific item in mind. In a traditional shopping scenario, I would physically go from store to store, hoping to find said item. This could turn into an ongoing and sometimes fruitless quest, or in settling for whatever version of the item I finally found. Let me tell you it wasn't easy finding a "man bag" my husband requested  a few years ago.  Obviously, men in Pittsburgh don't carry bags, unless they are backpacks emblazoned with a Steeler logo.

But online you can comparison shop, looking at every available version of man bags, sometimes all on the same page. You can find the best price for the item.  You can actually order the bag from Fossil, your husband's favorite brand, in the color, size and style you choose.  You can even add the exact wallet that your husband admired in the Fossil Store in Times Square last month to your order. And then it is delivered to your house, for what is usually a very reasonable shipping fee that in the long run may be less expensive than the price of the gas you put in your car shopping in the more traditional fashion.

Some people worry about the security of their financial information when ordering online, but, you know, I’m a risk taker. Just in case, though, I always make sure to use a credit card (not a debit card) when ordering online so that any glitch that might happen does not have an immediate impact on my checking account. Another cost-saving tip is to shop early enough to allow for delivery and to avoid the cost of last minute shipping.

Of course, there were a few things I still needed to buy in person, and a couple of strategic trips to Target and Rite-Aid helped to fill the stockings. Strangely enough, the Target in Cranberry is the place I buy my Hanukkah candles each year. This year all my gifts ordered online had been delivered to the desired recipient or to my house by December 14th and I picked up the last in-person gift on Friday, December 16th, four days before the first day of Hanukkah, and 8 days before Christmas Eve. This is a record for me.

I was so euphoric when I made my final purchase that I almost broke into a spirited rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus of Handel’s Messiah right there in the mall. Do you think that’s what inspired Handel to write it in the first place?

Lead with Your Bad Leg

I was talking to my father the other day after I hurt my knee and was explaining that it hurt most when I was walking down steps. “Do you know that you should lead with your bad leg when you’re walking DOWN steps?” he asked, “Are you leading with your good leg or your bad leg?”


Well, I was trying to stay off steps altogether but when I couldn’t avoid them, I was always leading with my good leg, up or down. Dad explained that you should lead with your good leg when going up steps and lead with your bad leg when going down. This seemed counterintuitive and I was a little skeptical. He clarified that this method allowed your bad knee to remain straight, and it was bending the knee that caused the pain.

Hmm, that made some sense. I tentatively tried it. It worked! It has in fact been an absolute revelation to me as I nurse this bad knee of mine. Dad has been giving me advice and helpful hints all my life, of course, but he really outdid himself this time.

I have carefully structured my life so that I can avoid navigating long flights of stairs if need be, but the sad fact is that everywhere I go there seem to be “a couple of steps” that absolutely can’t be avoided. There is a step or two to get into my house. There are two steps at work that separate me from the restroom, the front desk, the mail, the coffee, the conference room and a couple of key co-workers.

Before Dad tipped me off, navigating these few steps was torture, and set the knee back a little every time I attempted them. Now I just lead with my good leg going up and my bad leg going down! I never have to put off going to the restroom again. I am grateful for that.

More than that, though, I now know that now, in an absolute emergency, I can slowly and carefully navigate an entire flight of steps. Say I am literally dying of thirst at work and the only thing that separates me from the bottles of water in the refrigerator in the kitchen downstairs is a long, daunting flight of steps. No problem! One step at a time I can get to the water.

Or, say the whites are in the dryer in the basement at home, I am totally out of clean socks, and my husband isn’t home. One step at a time, I can go to the basement to get some socks. I never have to go barefooted again.

Yes, armed with this important technique, a good Ace knee bandage, and some knee-shaped ice packs, I can conquer the world! Thanks, Dad.

Expectant Mothers and New Parents of Infants Only

The other day I was running into Giant Eagle to pick up a book of stamps and something from the salad bar for lunch. Since it was lunchtime the parking lot was packed, but in the distance I saw an empty spot right next to the handicapped spots. It was like an oasis in a desert. I happily headed for the spot only to find that it was “Reserved for Expectant Mothers and New Parents of Infant Children Only.”

Really? Since when do pregnant women and people with babies get spots right next to the handicapped spots to shop in the supermarket?

Look, it’s not that I am unsympathetic to the pregnant women. I was a pregnant woman once. In my totally “uneventful” pregnancy I gained 50 pounds. I had a sharp debilitating pain in my upper abdomen for my entire second trimester that the doctors called “a little heartburn.” In my third trimester, I could not find a comfortable position, and could not get from one position to another without a great struggle.

Not only did no one give me a special parking space in the supermarket parking lot when I was pregnant, I was encouraged to walk. It was supposed to be good for me. My “office” at the time was a desk located in a storage loft of a sheltered workshop. I had to climb up and down stairs every time I had to use the restroom, which was all the time since I was pregnant. My boss did not seem concerned about this, and never considered finding a workspace for me on the first floor to save me this trouble.

Okay, so maybe I’m just jealous of today’s expectant mothers and their special treatment in the parking lots, but what about the “new parents of infant children?” They need a special spot, too?

I won’t even TELL you about the time that my younger sister and I flew to Boston with my six-month-old baby to visit my other sister. My sister was someone who prided herself on packing enough for a week’s vacation in a carry-on duffel bag, and I was also an everything-I-need-in-one-suitcase kind of gal. You would have thought we were packing for a six-week tour of Europe with the luggage we had on that trip, but we were really just flying somewhere with a baby.

Actually, the “new parents of infant children” who I know today are a plucky lot. They are marvels of ingenious organization. They juggle careers, and the babies, and a bunch of fun extracurricular activities for the whole family. And they still have time for Facebook. Taking the baby out is a cinch due to all the new-fangled contraptions young parents have today – like car seats that convert into a baby carrier without having to so much as remove the baby during the conversion. It is actually insulting to young parents to suggest they need a special parking spot when they take the baby to the supermarket.

Do you want to hear my parking lot fantasy? I see that empty spot in the crowded parking lot next to the handicapped spots, and when I get there I find that the spot is “Reserved for People Who Ache All Over But Don’t Quite Qualify as Handicapped.” Hey, that would be me!