Yes, you can say “Merry Christmas” here

12/16/07

 Public displays of prayer, where I came from, in Wyoming, Colorado and New Mexico were rare. Those demanding it when out doing team work were considered a little eccentric but politeness, in good company, dictated that you obliged by bowing your head  acknowledging with respect. Those from the Midwest, where I was from, were more private about their religious beliefs. Never a dared prayer in schools covered by a moment of silence. And most certainly not at civic governmental meetings – unheard of. But not down here in the Gulf Coast – it’s a way of life this openness with public prayer whilst holding hands with friends and strangers to strengthen the resolve.

 I was the good Catholic girl who landed in a Baptist camp to do volunteer work. At first I just thought it was all “those” Baptists in camp who were a little eccentric. It didn’t bother me – I did what I always did on those rare occasions back homes when someone opted to share a blessing - bowed my head politely and then went on with my day. Here in camp was prayer at breakfast, before you started work, at lunch, at supper. Just the way it was and I slipped into the routine as I did with the routine with the nuns when back in school of my youth. There we chanted the “Our Father” every morning along with the Creed of Allegiance – most of us never understanding the words. Just knew where the words belonged in a line of words and went forward from there. After all I was raised in the church when the Mass was said in Latin – still prefer the Latin version myself. Not sure why. Probably because you have to step to the other side of the brain and truly concentrate for an hour on the meaning of every word.

 Prayer down here is from the heart – not from a pre-described ritual chant. It is said with every feeling and fiber of their heart and soul. It is done with spunky honesty.  For the last two years I have been attending a black Baptist Church. Why? Because most of those attending are clients I work with on a day to day basis – and so I worship with them on Sunday. I love the service. It is a uniquely southern style with the homespun traditional cultural aspect that you recognize as being from the history of the area. There are no hymnals – but then in this part of town so many of the older residents can not read or write well at all. The hymns are reminiscent of those handed down from generations from the slave era – you recognize the lilt in the chant. They are iambic in nature - guttural, gritty and grounded.

 Christmas here does not come with snow that layers all the landscape faults and failings of the northern states – although it can be cold as ice here on the ocean with temperatures slipping to 32. Cold enough for a sweater at Christmas. It is the only time they vacate those wild Hawaiian shirts but never the sandals and shorts!   The grass is a somber green, the trees may have a red hue and some slim on leaves, but the landscape just turns to a dull hue not the grey of the north. The sparseness of the leaves allow for the Katrina damage to show forth even going on the third Christmas since the great storm. The slabs, the remaining debris, and the lots that once held homes now empty and bare between the newly refurbished and rebuilt homes – some lit up like an overwhelmed Wal-Mart  Christmas tree over compensating for the loss of two Christmas seasons prior. And those new air blown Christmas lawn garnishments are very popular down here. They lay so flat, lifeless, and akin to lawn debris during the day strewn all over the newly landscaped pristine yards – but at night  they spring to life to fill the yards from one end to the other telling a story in creative tents of plastic and bobbing life size figures that face the street – never facing the home where the children gaze out the window.  It is a story board strictly for those driving by the home.

 The one thing the Christmas lights do point out quite doggedly – it is a summing of the “haves” and the “have nots”. You drive down the street and you can see it as plain as day. The side of town that has lights – and the side of town that has not. All these lights, even if intermittent,  were not here last year. And it is wonderful to see the Christmas spirit thriving once again. It would be even more wonderful to see it in all parts of town. But the mood is still somber here - recovery is slow. And there even was a grinch that tried to burn down the official Waveland Christmas tree the night before the official tree lighting ceremony. But despite vandals effort - the burning tree was saved by the local fire department.

 Regardless, down here you can say “Merry Christmas” without fear of reprisals from those dogged on turning it into a “season” rather than a Christian celebration. That is the one thing that remains resolute in this population – their resolve to pray in public proudly. When they say “Merry Christmas” here in the Gulf Coast – those saying it truly mean it from the heart in every sense of the Christian spirit. And that is what the volunteers go home with from here – a new found attitude about prayer and the right to share your religious feelings so openly. Here we do not need to wear a button giving people permission to wish you a Merry Christmas.

 So, from us here at Katrina Relief in Waveland, Mississippi – we hope you have a very Merry Christmas!