Good Friday and the Annunciation clashed in my heart at morning Mass this morning. I know it’s an odd connection, but I was struck by the Gospel reading from the first chapter of Luke.

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As a grandfather, I can hardly wait for Christmas Eve again this year as I hold my little grandson close to my chest in one arm and my new little granddaughter in the other as we feast our eyes on our glorious Christmas tree and sing songs about the Baby Jesus who shall breathe love into our lives.

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One year, my sister and I concocted a scheme to catch Santa when he brought gifts to our house. We tied a string to his glass of milk (next to the plate of cookies we left for him) and strung it all the way to the upstairs where we slept and put a bell on the end. When Santa took a gulp of milk, the bell would ring and we would run down the stairs and confront our friend…

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One year, my sister and I concocted a scheme to catch Santa when he brought gifts to our house. We tied a string to his glass of milk (next to the plate of cookies we left for him) and strung it all they way to the upstairs where we slept and put a bell on the end. When Santa took a gulp of milk, the bell would ring and we would run down the stairs and confront our friend.

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