Christmas With Beatrice

Beatrice wasn’t raised in a wholesome Christian environment. She didn’t know the Biblical story of what Christmas represented-- only bits and pieces of the story told to her by angels at the top of evergreen trees. Like most Americans, Beatrice celebrated this Christian holiday with her family, but was far from being born again.

She grew up in a little town in the Appalachians. There were churches everywhere. Many denominations of Protestant Churches in addition to Catholic worship halls were scattered throughout the countryside like cows were. Beatrice never stepped foot in one, although her mom told her she was baptized as a baby.

Beatrice loved Christmas as a little girl. Her family was large and Christmas morning was filled with all the traditions of this beloved holiday.

Early one December Beatrice wrote a letter to Santa at the North Pole and asked for a set of Lincoln Logs and a Lite Bright. Her mom told her that if she put out a glass of milk and some cookies, Santa may just leave her those gifts under the Christmas tree, but it depended on how good she was until Christmas morning.

Beatrice wanted those Lincoln Logs really bad, so she got out the family Bible with all its important hand written birthdays and deaths on the cover and pretended to be reading it.

Beatrice was convinced that Santa was watching every move she made.

The little girl couldn’t go to sleep on Christmas Eve. Morning seemed to never come and Beatrice’s mind raced helplessly in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.

She had her first psychosis that Christmas Eve as a child.

She prayed to God and told him to hurry up and make the morning come faster.

The night went on forever.

Beatrice woke up with her first hangover, opened up her Lincoln Logs and created a perfect replica of the Star of David on Christmas morning.

On her Lite Bright she drew the remainder of the cosmos.