Book of Days

NINTH DAY of CHRISTMAS:
St. Genevieve’s Day

There are no particular customs associated with this Ninth Day of Christmas, nor with the Tenth tomorrow. Today is the Feast Day of St. Genevieve, sacred to Paris. Tomorrow, more saints (St. Titus and St. Gregory, as well as St. Rigobert and St. Ramon). These two days are good days for contemplation, markedly different from the first half of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Chaos and major revelry were the order of the days of Christmas in the old year, but that’s because chaos reigned as the old year unraveled. Now, however, the new year is here… order is taking hold. Many of us who were off from work for Christmas return to work for the first time today. Ordinary Time is quickly sweeping Christmas into the closet.

Faithful readers of the Convivio Book of Days will hopefully be following tradition and keeping the tree up through the Epiphany celebration on January 6. Tradition tells us that this is the day the Magi arrived at the stable to see the child that was born. Here’s a suggestion from us to you for the day when you do indeed bring out your old tree: If you have a quiet corner of the yard where you can save it, save it. Use it, as we do, to fuel the midwinter fire at next year’s solstice night. This is a custom we’ve been following for years, and it is an honorable way of discarding the tree that brought you so much joy during Christmas. To have that tree bring you light on the darkest night of the year is a sublime connection as one year passes to another.

St. Genevieve, meanwhile, brings us back to light, as well. She is another of the midwinter saints associated with light. She is often depicted holding a candle. As the story goes: the devil would time and again blow out her candle as she went to pray at night. Genevieve, however, relit her candle without need of flint or fire. She is another of the light bearers in midwinter’s darkness. Thirteen days on the other side of the solstice, already light is increasing as we begin the journey toward summer’s warmth once more in the Northern Hemisphere. The light of St. Genevieve promises to never be snuffed by the darkness.

These two days are also good days for preparation. Twelfth Night and Epiphany, the days that close the Christmas season, are just around the corner: Twelfth Night on Thursday and Epiphany on Friday. If you are going to celebrate (and we hope you do), you’ll need some time to get things ready. Last year’s chapter of the Convivio Book of Days for the Tenth Day of Christmas provides our recipe for Three Kings Cakes. The recipe does indeed make three 8″ loaf cakes, one for each of the Magi: Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar. Those Three Kings and la Befana, the kind Italian witch, the whole lot of them being the last of the midwinter gift bearers, will be making their rounds, too, on Twelfth Night. It is right and it is good that we welcome them into our homes and hearts.

One of the traditions that Seth brings to our Yuletide from his childhood memories are electric candles in all the windows. We put them up at the start of Advent and they stay up through to Candlemas, usually, at the start of February… which is when we begin to welcome spring.

EIGHTH DAY of CHRISTMAS:
St. Macarius’s Day

Today we celebrate St. Macarius of Alexandria, known for his extreme asceticism (a word dangerously close to aestheticism, no?). But before he became so hardened against the things of this world, Macarius was a confectioner, and so he is known as a patron saint of cooks, confectioners and pastry chefs. This, as you might guess, is the St. Macarius we are most interested in on this Eighth Day of Christmas. Some people have a hard time saying St. Macarius, and so he has also been known over the ages as St. Macaroon––fitting enough for a confectioner, I’d say.

Macarius was born in Alexandria in the early fourth century and it is in that fabled city where he made his living selling candies and pastries. In about 335, he left the bustle of the city to become a monk, and eventually made his way to a monastery in the desert (a word dangerously close to dessert, no?) and lived the life of a hermit from there on out. He ate very little: raw vegetables most days, and on special days, a bit of bread dipped in oil.

There is a rather nice story attributed to St. Macarius, a story he is said to have told his fellow monks in the monastery, who were interested in perhaps moving out of the desert and into the city in an attempt to reach more souls. Macarius spoke of a barber in a small town who eked out a decent living by charging three coins for a shave. He earned enough this way to sustain himself and his family and to even save a little extra for his old age. But he heard a rumor that barbers in the nearby city were charging a lot more than three coins for the same service. He thought long and hard about this, and finally, he made the decision to sell all he had in the small town and move to the city and set up shop there, where he could earn a larger profit for his services. And so he did.

Sure enough, at the end of his first day in the city, he had earned more than he had ever earned in the small town, and the barber was quite elated. And after closing up shop, he headed for the market to buy food and provisions for his family, but he found that everything  in the big city market was much more expensive than it had been in the small town. Indeed, he ended up with no money at all in his pocket that day––a trend that continued each day after. Finally, the barber decided it would be best to return to his native town, where at least he made a small amount of progress each day in his savings.

With this story, St. Macarius swayed his fellow monks to stay in the quiet solitude of the desert. And of course there is a lesson in this story for all of us: a lesson of quiet patience, the understanding that sometimes what is best for us is right where we are.

St. Macarius became so devoted to his asceticism that he began to take things to some extreme ends. He once spent twenty days out in the open air without sleep, a self-inflicted punishment for accidentally killing a mosquito that had bit him. I’ve always been wary of extremists, and so for me, the best celebration of St. Macarius’s Day for this Eighth Day of Christmas is a celebration that calls to mind his place as a patron saint of confectioners and cooks. It’s a great day, I think, for enjoying something sweet. Think of all the joy that confectioners bring us. Certainly Macarius brought much joy to the people of Alexandria when he was selling candies and confections there. And so on this Eighth Day of Christmas, remember St. Macarius, and take joy (and maybe have a macaroon or a macaron.)

Image: St. Macarius of Egypt, from an old Ukranian codex. He seems to be saying, with his hands extended in front of him, “No thanks, no dessert for me.” [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.