An Excerpt From Open Arms

At home, a pine wreath sat on the back of the door decorated with pinecones, apples and hickory nuts that Lucio brought home from his walks with Caitlin. Close by, in a corner resting underneath a two-foot spindly Christmas tree, was a tiny primitive Nativity Scene brought from the old country. It was decorated with dried fruits, roses made of colored paper, and a few other simple ornaments made from anything Fortunato found lying around. They believed that the needles pointed toward the Heavens as a symbol of a true and everlasting God. The Angel Gabriel was placed at the top.   

For the Abruzzi family and other poor families who worked the

land, Christmas was a season of hope, gratitude, and fellowship. A

gathering of family and friends to celebrate what was most important to

them…their Italian heritage flowing through their blood, infused with the

freedom and opportunity to become an American. Many gifts were

handmade, while oranges, bananas, nuts, and candy recalled the 

the simplicity of the season’s bounty.

With Catrina’s nebulous depression hanging over her, she was eager to

feel the comfort of the Holy Spirit embracing her at the altar.

Christmas Eve dinner was a simple meal of Pasta Fagioli, homemade

wine, a few pieces of sausage and chicken, fruit, and bread. Lucio was

content eating his macaroni with butter while flicking some Spaghetti at

Rocco, sitting at his feet. Christmas was about family and what you had.

to be grateful for. They made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads

in silent prayer.

After the meal, Fortunato went to the cellar to add more coal to the

furnace, hopeful the heat would last through the night. They fed Rocco,

and with the snow falling and the wind gusting, they bundled up and

headed down the seven slippery blocks to Saint Agatha’s.  

Blessings dear friends,