ON THE FOURTH DAY OF CHRISTMAS...

On the fourth day of Christmas our little family…put up our nativity scene.

Life is just too short to be serious all of the time. Like most people, I've weathered serious moments in my life but I also do my best to learn from them or to find something to make me smile or laugh. I feel that way about Christmas.

There are jolly things all around us this time of year, but every year, as I sit in my red and green pajamas drinking hot cocoa and listening to Christmas music, I try to focus on the original meaning of December 25th.

The story of the first Christmas has been a favorite of mine since I was a child. What little girl doesn't like a story that has magic-like events, love and a baby? As an adult - and especially as a parent - the story of that miracle has even more meaning. I get it in a way that I couldn't when I was 6 years old.

Last night, as we put out our nativity scene, those serious thoughts went through my mind. Then I smiled thinking about how we get to carry on the tradition of our parents and tell the Little One that special story. I also smiled because three of my favorite memories about the nativity aren't serious at all, but light-hearted and sweet.

First, I remember dressing up to go to mass on Christmas Eve. I sat patiently in the pew with my family surrounded by other kids and their families - all of us little people barely able to contain our excitement over the fact that Santa's arrival was just hours away. In the big finale of the Christmas Eve service, the priest invited all of the kids up onto the alter. There, standing right next to the nativity scene that we were usually only allowed to look at from afar, we turned toward our families and sang "Happy Birthday." Very fitting.

Another favorite memory happened when I was visiting my great aunts during the holiday season. I always stayed with the older of the two sisters, Mary, but would visit Bea often since she only lived a couple of short blocks away. On this particular visit, Bea called my aunt's apartment and asked that I come over to see her nativity scene. I accepted the offer and made my way over.

Bea's figurines were large, well-cared for and important to her. That was most clear when it became late and she started to say goodnight. Tia Beattie reached under the table and pulled out a small piece of fabric no more that eight inches square. Then, sweet Bea gently placed the blanket over the baby Jesus statue and said, "Good night." Talk about innocence!

My final favorite nativity scene blooper happened more than once. When I was a child my family put our simple little nativity scene under the Christmas tree. The tiny figurines of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus stayed there all season with one exception. Every few days our cat, Sunday, who typically hung out under the tree as well would launch an unprovoked attack on the Holy Family. Poor Baby Jesus was usually knocked out of his manger and batted around the room before any of us could get to him. In his defense, Sunday the cat was just playing, but I imagine he still had some explaining to do years later when he went to kitty heaven.