Congregation of Jesus Mary Joseph

A Century-Old Letter of Sr. Mary Glowrey

01 Jan 2025 - 07 Jan 2025

My dear children, (It was a letter to her nieces and nephews)

Many thanks for your kind letters, congratulations, and especially for your prayers. Please keep praying that Auntie Mary may be a good nun. I am glad you liked the stories about the mission: but they are not really “stories”; they are true.…

I must also tell you about Christmas here. Some time ago you asked if the children know about Santa Claus. No. For one thing, Santa Claus, as you know comes down the chimney. In India I have not yet seen a house with a chimney, so what is the poor man to do? We will always hang our stockings near the fireplace, to save time for Father Christmas who has so many places to visit. Sometimes I looked up the chimney, and when I saw how narrow it became, I wondered how dear old Father Christmas managed to get down, for he is rather stout, you know. I first suspected that when no one was looking and we were all fast asleep, he came in through the doorway just as other people do. Here even if that would be difficult for him to get into the huts one must go on one’s hands and knees and creep through the little opening that serves for a door.

There is another difficulty. Just think for a moment who is Santa Claus? He is St. Nicholas, the children’s friend. Call him Father Christmas if you will. In either case, he comes to remind us of the Christ-child. Little children have never heard of the Christ-child, so how can Father Christmas come to them? Even Catholic children have not learned to know him. They are so few. Father Christmas has not yet been able to make himself at home in India. So Reverend Mother tries to make the children as happy as possible at Christmas time. First of all, on Christmas night, there is midnight Mass. That is beautiful. Then the children visit the ‘crib’, built on rocks and open to all the winds that blow. But it is beautifully decorated with fiery lights and silvery balls, and gay coloured hanging birds, all gifts which Indian children love to offer the babe within. If they can reach, they kiss Him, and His Mother and St. Joseph. They kiss the shepherds; they even kiss the ox and ass and the camel coming up the hill. But they do not kiss the camel’s black drawer, nor will they kiss the black king when the Magi arrive on the Feast of Epiphany. In the evening there is a procession with bright lights and fireworks and the men dance before the statue of the Sacred Heart as of old David danced before the arc. The children are delighted with all these. But you should see them when they get their presents; clothes, slates, pencils, beads, balls, whistles, marbles and most wonderful of all, dolls. Last year one little girl was in tears, there was no doll for her.

This year a very sad thing has happened. Reverend Mother sent to get broken toys especially broken dolls from the shops. The Sisters mended and dressed them. But this year all the shops said they had nothing to give. Reverend Mother will still find marbles and whistles and clothes. But think of it, 150 girls and not one doll! Have you any broken dolls and do you know any kind people who would mend them and send them to the children for next Christmas. Then you can play Santa Claus yourselves and for the poor little Indian children.

Fondest love from your loving auntie

Sr. Mary of the Sacred Heart

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