St. Nicholas, the Kleeschen, Santa Claus, and Jesus Christ

I believed in Santa Claus until I was five. It was exciting and magical! I wrote to him about being a good girl and told him the gifts I wanted to get from him on Christmas Day. Out of a long list of toys and dolls, I would get at least one.

I discovered that Santa wasn't real when we moved to the Philippines when I was five years old. There was no snow. The climate was too warm for Santa to go sleighing from one house to another. There were no reindeers. There were no chimneys. I wrote my wish list to Santa but I got candies and chocolates sold from my Lola's sari-sari store found in front of their house.

We no longer had the tradition of writing to Santa after that. A few years later, I'd just see him in Hollywood movies, shopping malls and Christmas decors. After all, I learned that Jesus was the real hero of Christmas. Of all the gifts we can ever receive, the one He gave was the most precious of all. This is something my husband and I taught our son,Polo.

Now, living in Luxembourg, we are introduced to another gift-giving personality -- St. Nicholas. History says that Santa Claus started as St. Nicholas. But not all acknowledge Santa Claus here. For locals, it is St. Nicholas, whom they call the Kleeschen, who checks if children are naughty or nice and gives them their most desired gift together with some chocolates, fruits and nuts on December 6 every year. The Kleeschen is not only a role acted out by the parents for their children but also by the god parents, friends,and family.

Preparing gifts for the children, lining up to get a gift from St. Nicholas in the malls, and everything that comes with it was all fun for Polo. But as Christmas approached, I wasn't sure if we should introduce the Santa and Kleeschen traditions to our sons.

We live in a country that believes in the Kleeschen; have family who live in the U.S., where there is a Santa Claus; and grew up in a country where it was too hot for the Kleeschen and Santa. We decided that as long as our son knows that we celebrate Christmas because of Jesus Christ, then, we're good. :)

Breaking Ground

The novelty of being a resident here is slowly fading away. The awe and disbelief I felt before is gradually being replaced by reality. I am not a tourist. I reside here now. I can still put on my tourist hat but not with a traveller's urgency. I guess, this is a tinny-tiny taste of what settling down is.

It's time to start breaking ground and grounding myself and my family in the new country we call home. The soil is fertile, we must let our roots grow and dig in. For how long will we be here? Who knows? Still, it's time to lower the anchor and let the heart of this country touch ours.

Luxembourg, give it to me, baby!

Unhurried

Here I am again, forced to an unhurried pace to fulfill one of the greatest duties of my lifetime – mother, nurturer. What better way is there to care for one’s child? What greater gift can there be than the one bestowed unto me by nature, by the Heavens Above? Because of faithfulness and compassion I have received and so with love, faith and dedication, I give. The wealth of health and well-being are the rewards I reap in the sight of a contented grin reflecting security and trust. This is priceless because at this moment, all else stands still, all priorities pause. While a private silent conversation takes place, a secret exchange, a slow dance that cannot be savored at a hurried pace.

Beloved Victor of Christ and of the People

To both Marvin and I, this is the meaning of our second son's name -- Juan Nicolo Amiel.

Juan - the spanish version of John, which means a gift of God. It is also the name of one of Jesus' 12 apostles, whom He called beloved.

Nicolo - is a variant of the Greek name Nicholas and means "people of victory."

Amiel - is a hebrew name meaning "God of my people."

He was born 2.78Kg, 48.5cm via c-section at 1:23 am in Kirchberg Hospital, Luxembourg. Now, he is 3 months and 8 days young, weighing at least 5.140 Kg. He smiles, laughs, and sleeps longer at night. He seems to see most things. He still cries like a baby girl when we delay in addressing his needs. He's been to Germany once, Belgium twice, rode a chairlift and much more while snuggling in my Storchenwiege Baby Wrap. Thank God, he is breastfeeding steadily.

He is the new addition to our little Mara-Agustin family. :) He is making our everyday life here in Luxembourg very interesting.

With Tons of Grace, Life Goes on 17 Hours Away...

My husband, two sons and I have been in Luxembourg for at least 5 months now. It took us around 8 months to get our act together and relocate here then, we hopped on 3 planes that took a total of 17 hours to bring us here.

We've been through tons already -- lived in hotel, a service apartment, now settled in our own aparment (or condo space as it is called in the Philippines); learned to take care of our firstborn on our own, manage our own household, grappled with our home appliances (as we sometimes still do); adjusted to the language (and we still are) and developed our french, german, and luxembourgish basic vocabulary; played host to our first house guest; entertained house guests a couple of times; introduced our firstborn to the Creche' (daycare), dragged him there crying then brought him there with ease and excitement after he got used to it and enjoyed the company of his friends and "teachers"; welcomed our second child, panicked a bit about the new addition to our family (mainly, that's just me. My hormonal changes are the culprit), established a new household rhythm; welcomed my Mom to our house, introduced her to our second child, and got her acquainted with Luxembourg and neighboring Germany and Belgium cities. Whew, I hardly could say that in one breath let alone write it in just one sentence!

Living in a foreign country on our own can be challenging but manageable. I feel the need to stretch my boundaries and expand my comfort zone. Most of the time, slowly, I adapt. I don't do it with ease, though. Usually, it comes with a lot of anxiety and uncertainty but then, grace comes at the right time to pull me forward.


Like when our firstborn begged and cried when we brought him to the Creche' the first few times, I was uncertain if we were doing the right thing or just traumatizing him. With patience and LOTS of prayers, he eventually agreed to go there two times a week for a few hours and eventually enjoyed it. He even asked me to let him stay there longer a number of times and would sing and jump around on our way home from the Creche' -- signs that he was having fun there.


An awkward "stretch" was when I had our second son. I always felt that I was measured and have been found lacking -- with my mother milk supply during the 1st few weeks after giving birth; with my capacity to manage the house with a new baby and take care of our firstborn at the same time. It's really all about grace. It comes when I need it the most and then it gently leads me on, bringing me one step higher in the ladder of motherhood and housewife-dom.