Newspaper Page Text
PAGE 8—The Georgia Bulletin, December 20,1979
I ^
achris™a S Journey Of Father McTavish
ADVENTURE ^ '
BY MONSIGNOR
NOEL C. BURTENSHAW
The snow was falling in large
heavy flakes on the busy main
street.
Father Timothy McTavish
periliously picked his way along the
icy pavement. Busy shoppers, laden
down happily with colorful
Christmas bundles, cheerily passed
the old priest by. Some remembering
their parochial youth yelled a
seasonal, “Merry Christmas, Father.”
This pilgrimage should have been
unnecessary. That thought did
nothing to help the steamy
exasperated temperament of St.
Agatha’s pastor, as he cautiously
made his way.
Vatican, that free-loading lazy
rectory feline, was to blame. Why he
ever allowed her to follow him to the
dusty attic, he’ll never know. He
should have sensed that danger
lurked expectantly in her idle
curiosity.
The Season of Advent was at
hand. It was time to think Christmas
and the glorious feast meant
decorations to annually brighten the
drab walls of old St. Agatha’s. The
ladies would pile high the poinsettias,
adorn the green-berried wreaths with
raging red bows and build the
Bethlehem scene in the usual snug
place - over by the Shrine of the
Little Flower.
It was left to the pastor to
resurrect the venerable manger scene,
Ever after Father McTavish would
wonder if that missing right eye
caused the collision. The damage was
disastrous. The one-eyed Jesus was
now without a left arm and a couple
of toes on both feet would never be
found again.
It all came back to the old man as,
cold and damp, he made his way to
the bus station. He had begged and
beseeched the Church goods store to
sell him a lonesome manger-Jesus.
“Don’t worry, he’s just trying to
make new friends. He’s almost too
gentle.”
The priest was about to suggest
that he would choose his own friends
when he noticed the voice belonged
to a middle aged man with heavy
dark glasses. Obviously the glasses
covered sightless eyes.
“Old Happy and I have been
together for over ten years. He’s my
right hand as well as my two eyes.
thought, he had seen pictures of boys
like that from St. Agatha’s -
r non-returning victims of the Viet
Nam war. He returned the precious
treasure to the blind man, obviously
excited and anxious to begin his long
journey.
“I don’t know why I carry the
picture, it just seems to keep me in
touch. He’s all I got now. Him and
Happy here.” The greying man
“we’ll stay on till the New Year. I’m
depending on my social security
check to get us back. These gifts and
this trip is everything I own. But it
will be worth it all to see my boy.
He’s scared now since he can’t walk.
But he will -1 know he will.”
The priest scanned the ticket
counter for the young man. He could
not see anyone filling the
description. He had that awful deep
down feeling the worst had
had been bought in the last half
hour. “No, Father,” they said, “that
bus is leaving in a few minutes. No
one has bought a ticket since early
morning.”
Obviously the young man has long
gone and so had the precious fare.
Father McTavish could feel the bills
in his pocket. That manger scene
would be needed for the Church and
should be in place in a few days. The
parishioners will be so proud of the
lovely new non-chipped statues. St.
Agatha’s deserved this Christmas
addition.
He looked at the now frantic
blind man and his fearfully excited
dog. He had no choice. “Give me a
ticket for that Oklahoma bus,” said
the priest, slapping the bills on the
counter.
“Here you are Father, but better
hurry, she leaves in a minute and
here’s your change.”
The old pastor looked down at
the two dollars and sixty cents.
Maybe, he quickly thought, he could
get the Holy Family on sale in April
or May. He turned to his blind
friend.
“Here’s your ticket. The young
Airman’s girl showed up,” lied the
old priest, “and he decided to wait
around a day or two. They’ve gone
off to celebrate Christmas together.
Better hurry or you’ll miss the bus.
Here take my arm.”
The priest sent the excited man
and his steady dog through the gate.
Tightly the blind man grasped his
Christmas gift bundle under his arm.
Happily he was on his way to see the
boy. It would be a memorable
Christmas.
.... you took Father and Mother along with the chiild ...
packed away last year after the regal
annual visit of the three wise kings
on the feast of the Epiphany. So to
the Church attic, accompanied by
the frolicking freshly awakened
Vatican, Father Timothy McTavish
ascended.
The dearly beloved plastic figures
were showing their vintage. Like the
old ediface of St. Agatha, the paint
once shiney and bright, had faded.
The bump on Joseph’s knee looked
like a recurring football injury.
Mary’s mantle had a clearly defined
hole in the left shoulder blade and
the infant Jesus for many years now
had displayed a deep cavity where
once a bright blue right eye had
stonely stared. Still, as always,
standing upright there on the attic
floor, the aging pastor decided they
could easily be devotional Christmas
objects of piety for one more year.
It was then the drama began.
Awakening from the slumber of
winter, the delicate trembling church
mouse perked a nose over the cozy
cardboard box. It was enough for
Vatican. Lunging to a noisey
forbidden attack, she flew through
the air before Father McTavish could
block for the unsuspecting Holy
Family. Joseph and Mary evaded the
flying tackle, as did the disappearing
mouse, but poor Jesus took it right
on the numbers.
But no way. They were sorry, you
took Father and Mother along with
the Child, separation under no
circumstances was possible. Feeling
somewhat like a Christmas family
adoption service, Father McTavish
agreed. Put them on the bus. It was
goodbye to the new parish savings
account contributed by Monday
night bingo.
The bus station was packed with
happy travelers. One week and it
would be Christmas Eve. The
intercom bellowed “Frosty • the
Snowman” in between calls for
departure. Father McTavish found
the arrival counter and was told to
wait. The bus carrying his prized
bundle had been delayed in snow
drifts and would be one hour late.
“Just another inconvenience,” he
grumbled. Now he would not arrive
home in time for dinner which
meant, most likely, he would miss his
evening rendezvous with Walter
Brinkley or David Cronkite or
whatever he called himself.
Happily, Vatican had decided to
spend Advent in fields foreign to the
rectory. It would be a meager
Christmas for the fugative feline -
that was certain. The old pastor
vowed it.
He scanned the busy terminal for
a vacant seat. Over in a cozy corner a
young man made a dash towards a
ticket counter. Father McTavish was
quick to replace him. Now for a
hopeful forty winks.
The sweet hazy journey into sleep
was interrupted by nudging at his
knee. Opening one curious eye, the
old cleric looked through his ancient
spectacles at the friendly face of a
large impressive German Shepherd.
Pulling back out of fangs reach was
his first reaction. But a kindly voice
to his right reassured him.
There’s not a mean bone in his
body.”
Father McTavish could see the
perfect teamwork along with the
close relationship existing between
man and dog.
“You have a fine beast there, you
can be very' proud of him. Are you
here to meet someone?”
“No,” said the blind neighbor
seemingly staring into the distant
holiday crowd. “I’m taking the next
bus to Altus Air Force Base in
Oklahoma. My son is in the Military-
Hospital on the base. His leg was
blown off during a terrorist attack in
Iran recently. I haven’t seen him - 1
mean been with him - since his return
a month ago. Happy and I will spend
Christmas with my boy. That’s him
in the picture.” The blind man
passed a small colored picture,
heavily finger marked to the priest.
Father McTavish took a look at
the young soldier. How often, he
reached down to grapple the ears of
his faithful friend.
“When does your bus leave?”
asked the priest, now interested in
his new acquaintance.
Feeling the watch on his arm in a
most expert way the man figured
“about ten minutes from how. I
hope that young man hurries back
with my ticket. He’s going to Altus
too, he most kindly offered to get
my ticket and sit with me all the way
to Oklahoma. These Air Force boys
are great kids.”
The old priest castigated himself
for being suspicious. It was
downright uncharitable. The young
man merely went to the assistance of
a blind man in need. He would return
any minute with both tickets.
“I suppose you’ll return after
Christmas,” said Father McTavish
making conversation.
“Well, no,” said the traveler,
happened.
“Did you know this young man,
the one traveling with you?” asked
the priest, trying to be casual.
“Well, no, but he’s Air Force.
Sounded just like my own boy. But I
hope he’s not delayed much longer.”
The intercom interrupted the
strains of Frosty announcing the
departure of the Oklahoma bus at
gate three. Passengers were now to
board.
The blind man grasped the
faithful Happy who now stood at the
ready. “I wonder what has
happened?” asked the blind man
anxiously concerned.
“Wait here and I’ll find him,” said
the priest. But he felt it was a useless
task. He went to the counter and
there was no sign of the younger
traveler. He asked both ticket sellers
if two tickets for the Oklahoma bus
Father Timothy McTavish pulled
his fraying coat up around his neck
as he turned to face the icy day once
more. Humming a long-lost
remembered Christmas tune, he
figured the new Holy Family would
be taking another bus ride back to
the church goods store. A bit of
mending glue would put the arm
back on the one eyed Jesus and St.
Agatha’s would be ready to celebrate
Christmas just like always.
He wondered if he should invest
the two dollars and sixty cents on a
big bright red bow for that rascal cat
Vatican. He just might. Yes, he just
might.
And the snow fell in large flakes
on the busy Christmas main street.
Christmas Plea
The Society of St. Vincent de Paul Central Office is in the middle of
what could easily become a holiday crisis, says the director Betty Knott.
“We have an unusually large number of people turning to us for
assistance this holiday season, and we simply don’t have the food on
hand to meet the demands,” she explained.
Once the 30 boxes of food raised last weekend by the Holy Cross
Parish youth group during their “Fast-A-Thon” is gone, the picture looks
bleak for those seeking help from the Vincentians.
“We especially need canned goods,” says Ms. Knott. “And
unfortunately, our sources of canned goods are few and far between.”
She also explained that part of the regular supply of food the Central
Office keeps on supply was diminished because of a much larger number
of people seeking help at Thanksgiving.
“Unless we receive donations very soon, we will be forced to turn
away those seeking food for their Christmas tables,” she added.
Information on donating food to the Society may be obtained by
calling Ms. Knott at 523-1541.
Corpus Christi Offers
Midnight Mass For Deaf
If you were to attend Midnight Mass at Corpus Christi Catholic Church this
year you would have the pleasure of seeing a Catholic Mass interpreted for the
deaf. You would also see the “Signs of Praise” singing choir bringing the
church hymns to both the deaf and hearing community. Christine McDonald,
who will be interpreting the Mass, is also the Director of Signs of Praise which
is formed from members of the Corpus Christi parish.
These services began about a year ago when Father Noel Neary contacted
Mrs. McDonald who works at the Atlanta Area School for the Deaf, inquiring
about sign classes being offered at Corpus Christi for the parish community.
Mrs. McDonald, who is the parent of a 13-year-old deaf son, has served as an
interpreter for the deaf CCD students of Corpus Christi. When she began in
1974 there were only three deaf students, one teacher and herself as
interpreter. Today, there are two CCD classes being interpreted for the deaf
with seven students being integrated into the regular classes. At this time,
Corpus Christi has approximately 12-15 deaf members with occasional visitors
from throughout the metro Atlanta area for the interpreted masses.
In February, 1980, Mrs. McDonald and Sister Rose Huber, who is the
pastoral director of the School of Religion at Corpus Christi plan to attend a
pastoral workshop for the deaf in New Orleans, Louisiana.
We would like to invite all deaf adults and children to the Midnight Mass at
Corpus Christi, Stone Mountain,'600 Mountain View Drive. Reserved seats will
be available for the deaf and their families. For more information, please
contact Christine McDonald 981-7005 (after 6:00 p.m.) or Sister Rose Huber
(469-0597) day.
Pope’s Christmas
VATICAN CITY (NC) - The Christmas holidays won’t exactly be a
vacation for Pope John Paul II.
As is customary for popes, he will have a heavy round of public
activities during the Christmas season.
The highlights will be a midnight Mass Christmas Eve in St. Peter’s
Basilica, another Mass in the basilica at 10:30 Christmas morning, and a
noontime Christmas blessing “Urbi et Orbi” (“to the city and the
world”) from the basilica’s central balcony overlooking St. Peter’s
Square.
The schedule of papal events released by the Vatican also included:
- Saturday, Dec. 22: A meeting at 11 a.m. in the consistory hall with
the cardinals in Rome, the pontifical family, and Roman prelates and
Curia members to exchange Christmas wishes;
- Wednesday, Dec. 26, the feast of St. Stephen and an Italian and
Vatican holiday: a noon Angelus over St. Peter’s Square instead of the
regular Wednesday general audience;
- Tuesday, Jan. 1, feast of the Mother of God and 13th World Day of
Peace: Mass at 10:30 a.m. in St. Peter’s;
- Wednesday, Jan. 2: The regular Wednesday general audience at 11
a.m.;
- Sunday, Jan. 6, feast of the Epiphany: Mass in St. Peter’s at 9:30
a.m., with the ordination of several bishops.
Notably absent from the schedule of special events put out by the
Vatican was a visit to the Gesu Church in Rome on New Year’s Eve.
Last year Pope John Paul resumed that once-traditional visit after a
lapse of more than a century. It was generally assumed at the time that
he was planning to again make it an annual event.
Blessed Holidays - The Georgia Bulletin Staff *‘**‘* J *‘*