The Twelve Days of Christmas. Did you grow up singing that song? Did you know what the Twelve Days are?
This is one of my favorite Christmas songs. It's a little silly, and it can get me giggling; especially some of the sillier parodies of it (like the ones I posted here). It is not truly a carol, and there really is not a secret, coded catechism for Catholic children. It is just a fun little song to count down the days to the feast of Epiphany.
What is Epiphany? According to Webster's Dictionary it is:
What is Epiphany? According to Webster's Dictionary it is:
A Christian feast celebrating the manifestation of the divine nature of Jesus to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi, traditionally observed on January 6.
I love to celebrate Epiphany, probably because it lets me continue to celebrate Christmas for a few more days (twelve, to be exact). When I was growing up, we never "took down Christmas" until Epiphany on January 6th. Mr. Marvelous and I do the same thing in our home. Our tree is still up. The lights still get lit when it is dark. The Christmas dishes are still being used. I still have Christmas music playing throughout the day. I'm even still watching a Christmas movie or two. For me, this continued celebration/countdown to Epiphany is part of the fun of Christmas.
In that spirit of fun, I wanted to share a little silly writing that my mother and I dearly love. I found it on the internet several years ago and it became one of our favorite things to read during this Twelve Days season.
The Twelve Thank You Notes of Christmas
by John Julius Norwich
26th December
My dearest darling,
That partridge in that lovely little pear tree! What an enchanting, romantic, poetic
present! Bless you and thank you.
Your deeply loving Emily...
28th December
My darling Edward,
You do think of the most original presents; whoever thought of sending anybody
three French hens? Do they really come all the way from France? It's a pity we have
no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Thank you anyway, they're heaven.
Your loving Emily...
29th December
Dearest Edward,
What a surprise - four calling birds arrived this morning. They are very sweet - even
if they do call rather loudly - they make telephoning impossible. But I expect they'll
calm down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm very grateful - of
course I am.
Love from Emily...
30th December
Dearest Edward,
The postman has just delivered five most beautiful gold rings, one for each finger,
and all fitting perfectly. A really lovely present - lovelier in a way than the
birds, which do take rather a lot of looking after. The four that arrived yesterday
are still making a terrible row, and I'm afraid none of us got much sleep last night.
Mummy says she wants to use the rings to 'wring' their necks, she's only
joking, I think; though I know what she means. But I love the rings. Bless you.
Love Emily
31st December
Dear Edward,
Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door this morning, it certainly
wasn't six socking great geese laying eggs all over the doorstep. Frankly, I had rather
hoped you had stopped sending me birds - we have no room for them and they have
already ruined the croquet lawn. I know you meant well, but - let's call a halt, shall we?
Love Emily
1st January
Edward,
I thought I said no more birds, but this morning I woke to find no less than seven
swans all trying to get into our tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not think what happened
to the goldfish. The whole house seems to be full of birds - to say nothing of what
they leave behind them. Please, please STOP...
Your Emily
2nd January
Frankly, I think I prefer the birds. What am I to do with eight milkmaids - AND their
cows? Is this some kind of a joke? If so I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.
Emily...
3rd January
Look here Edward, this has gone far enough. You say you're sending me nine ladies
dancing; all I can say is that judging from the way they dance, they're certainly
not ladies. The village just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless hussies
with nothing on but their lipstick cavorting round the green - and it's Mummy and I
who get blamed. If you value our friendship - which I do less and less - kindly stop
this ridiculous behaviour at once.
Emily...
4th January
As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men are prancing about all over what used to
be the garden - before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it; and several
of them, I notice, are taking inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile
the neighbours are trying to have us evicted. I shall never speak to you again.
Emily
5th January
This is the last straw. You know I detest bagpipes. The place has now become
something between a menagerie and a madhouse and a man from the Council has
just declared it unfit for habitation. At least Mummy has been spared this last outrage;
they took her away this afternoon in an ambulance. I hope you're satisfied...
6th January
Sir,
Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to inform you that with the arrival
on her premises at half-past-seven this morning of the entire percussion section of the
Oxford Philharmonic Orchestra and several of their friends she has no course left open
to her but to seek an injunction to prevent your importuning her further. I am making
arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.
I am, sir,
Yours faithfully,
G. Creep, Solicitor-at-Law
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