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| Edward Clark Potter, Fortitude American, 1911 New York, New York Public Library
Fortitude, the northern of the two majestic lions that guard the grand New York
Public Library main building on Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street, wears his annual
Christmas evergreen wreath with characteristic dignity. His brother lion,
Patience, is similarly adorned for the season.
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This week marks the first anniversary of the spinal fusion surgery that corrected the dreadful situation I found myself in mid-2018. December 12 will be the actual first anniversary.
Although not yet completely pain free my physical condition is so much better than it was that I am doing my best to make up for my inability to participate in pre-Christmas events and festivities last year. And so, I have been going to various events around the city and just plain looking with appreciation on the decorations that are now mostly in place.
I’ve even been posting photos of what I am seeing on Facebook and have received appreciative comments from friends who no longer live in New York City or who cannot make it around to see them in person.
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| The Cartier building on Fifth Avenue at 52nd Street is decorated as a gift package. |
While the lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree
is a huge event, attended by thousands of people and televised nationwide, this
is not the tree lighting that means the most to me. Actually, there are two tree lightings that
are much closer to my heart.
The first is, of course, the famous Neapolitan crèche scene
and angel tree at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This combines a beautifully decorated tree
with an even more beautiful and complex traditional Neapolitan presepio scene, donated to the museum in 1964 by Loretta Hines Howard and still watched over by
her family to this day. I have fond
memories of its early days and it has accompanied all my Christmases for the
last 55 years. Each year I search
eagerly among the vignettes of daily life that are recreated around the base of
the tree for new figures or new settings for familiar ones. Every year since I became a volunteer at the
Met I try to fill in any vacancy at the information desk in the Medieval
gallery, where it is displayed, so that I can spend the afternoon in its serene
presence.
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| The Presepio and Angel Tree Italian, 18th Century New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art |
The second personally significant tree lighting is the
glorious display of trees along the Park Avenue median mall. Every single crossing of Park Avenue from 54th
to 97th streets is flanked by lighted Christmas trees. Every block has two trees, one on each side, while
the important crosstown streets have three trees on each side.
This has been a steady accompaniment to my entire life. I can still remember how they looked when I
was a very small child and they have been there every Christmas throughout my
life. They are not only beautiful in
themselves, but they are the conveyers of memory as well. For they are trees of remembrance, initially
of the wartime dead, but now of all those who have left us.
The trees were the idea of one woman who, in 1945, financed
the installation and lighting of trees in memory of her son, who had been
killed in the Second World War. The
following year she was joined by other Park Avenue families, who wished to
remember their own war dead. The
families carried the burden for many years, until it was picked up, sometime in
the 1960s by a non-profit group, currently known as the Fund for Park Avenue. They continue to finance the trees at
Christmas and the planting of flowers at other times of the year.
The tree lighting occurs as the conclusion of a ceremony
held at the Brick Presbyterian church (at 91st Street). In the distant past the lighting was
held on an early December Friday evening.
However, for some time it has been held on the Second Sunday of
Advent. I had noted the timing of the
ceremony for this year. The ceremony began
at 6:30, which led me to surmise that the lighting itself would probably be
around 7:30.
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| Shrine of Saint Martin de Porres Church of Saint Vincent Ferrer New York |
Regrettably, I knew I couldn’t get to the ceremony, due to a
commitment elsewhere. As this was the
first anniversary of the last Sunday before the surgery last year I wanted to
go to the evening Mass at the Dominican church of Saint Vincent Ferrer, located near me. to give thanks at the
shrines of Saint Martin de Porres and Our Lady of Guadalupe. One year ago I visited their shrines to
ask for guidance and protection to the surgeons, nurses and others who would be
treating me. But, as that Mass ends
around 7 PM and I planned to go directly home, I expected that by the time the
lighting took place I would already be home.
Ah, well. Such is life! However, the Lord had a kind little surprise
in store for me.
My departure from Mass was delayed by several well-wishers
who remembered that a year has passed since my surgery. Of course, my reaction was one of pleasure
that they had remembered and I spent some time talking to them. I confess, I lost track of time
somewhat.
My homeward route took me west across Park Avenue, heading
for a bus stop on Madison Avenue. When I
reached Park I had to wait on the east side of the avenue for the traffic light to change. As I had anticipated, the mall trees were still
dark. And, then, suddenly, they were
alight! The delay had been just long
enough to place me at the right spot to witness the transformation. What an amazing gift!
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| Looking north from the west side of Park Avenue at 65th Street |
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| Looking south from the west side of Park Avenue at 65th Street toward midtown. |
The gift was made even more special by the color of the
lights this year. All last week I had
been thinking of the trees and images from my early days had risen to the
surface of my mind. I remember the trees
of my childhood, not twinkling with blue-white LED light, as the trees of the
last several years have, but glowing softly as they used to do in the days when
the only lightbulbs available were yellowish-white incandescents. To my surprise and delight this year the LED lights
have a warm golden glow, almost like the glow in my memory.
It’s a small thing certainly, in face of the many challenges
which the current world situation and my advancing years and physical situation
confront me with, but this small gift of light is a reminder and a pledge of the great love
and mercy of God to each of us, if we will only recognize it.
May all of you have a blessed Advent and a truly happy
Christmas.
