{"id":12277,"date":"2021-12-26T08:24:20","date_gmt":"2021-12-26T13:24:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/intramuralist.com\/?p=12277"},"modified":"2021-12-26T08:24:23","modified_gmt":"2021-12-26T13:24:23","slug":"the-day-after-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/intramuralist.com\/?p=12277","title":{"rendered":"the day after"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

[Beautifully written by Jennifer Finney Boylan, a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times,<\/em> published 3 years ago\u2026]<\/p>\n\n\n\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was my first Boxing Day in retail. There I was, sitting at the returns desk at Classics Books in Midtown Manhattan, 1980. A woman in a mink coat angrily dropped a volume upon my desk: \u201cMommy Dearest,\u201d by Christina Crawford.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m returning this \u2014 this piece of trash!\u201d she said.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWas there something wrong with the book?\u201d I asked. She\u2019d received it just the day before.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her eyes narrowed. \u201cJoan Crawford,\u201d she said, \u201cwas a wonderful mother!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The day after Christmas is a hard day to work in retail, what with all the returns and exchanges. At least Black Friday is just about sales. So many people. So much disappointment.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We don\u2019t have a proper name for the Day After here in the States, although it\u2019s definitely a good time to stay home if you can. It\u2019s a day for reflection, for eating leftovers, for taking stock of the year just past.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In England, it\u2019s Boxing Day; in Ireland and elsewhere, it\u2019s St. Stephen\u2019s Day. When I was a student in London, my professor, a Briton, explained that it was called Boxing Day because it\u2019s the day disappointed children punch one another out.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For years I trusted this story, which only proves that there are some people who will believe anything, and I am one of them.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The real origins of Boxing Day go back to feudal times, when workers on a lord\u2019s estate would ask, on this day, for a Christmas box, in exchange for good service throughout the year. Later, the tradition expanded to include the collection of alms for the poor.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In Ireland, St. Stephen\u2019s Day brings the appearance of the Wren Boys \u2014 costumed revelers engaged in a ritualized hunting of a wren. The best-known Wren parade happens in Dingle, in County Kerry. There\u2019s a lot of marching around and collecting of money, some of which goes to charity and some of which \u2014 according to at least one of my Irish friends \u2014 goes to pay for a round at the pub. The veneration of the wren predates Christianity, in fact: The Irish word for wren, \u201cdreoilin\u201d \u2014 comes from two words, \u201cdraoi ean,\u201d the druid bird.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are lots of songs that go with this revelry. I always liked the Grateful Dead\u2019s \u201cSt. Stephen,\u201d which speaks of the \u201ccountry garden in the wind and the rain; wherever he goes the people all complain.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I like the one the Chieftains sing: \u201cThe wren, oh the wren he\u2019s the king of all birds\/on St. Stephen\u2019s Day he got caught in the furze\/So it\u2019s up with the kettle and it\u2019s down with the pan\/Won\u2019t you give us a penny for to bury the wren.\u201d The wren symbolizes winter, as the robin represents summer, and \u201cburying the wren\u201d means the coming of longer days.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then there\u2019s \u201cThe King,\u201d which Steeleye Span covered years ago. In Victorian times, this tune accompanied the presentation of a wren-king, hidden inside a box, dressed in silks. In exchange for a donation, you could get a glimpse of the king. (\u201cJoy, love, health and peace, be all here in this place\/By your leave we will sing, concerning our king\/Our king is well dressed, in silks of the best,\/wearing ribbons so rare, no king can compare.\u201d)<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Who was St. Stephen, and what does he have to do with Christmas, or Christians? Stephen was the faith\u2019s first martyr, slain for suggesting, among other things, that God was not to be found in the temple, or in any dwelling made by human hands.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a Christian, I can promise you I fall short in lots of ways, especially in my consistent failure to treat other people with the love and grace they deserve. But on the issue of the temple, St. Stephen and I are of one mind. Most of the times that I\u2019ve experienced the eternal are times when I was not sitting in an actual church.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Exactly 40 years ago, in fact, on St. Stephen\u2019s Day 1978, I was staring into a fire at a beach house in Atlantic City with some friends. As I sat there looking at the flames, I heard a voice as clear as a bell, speaking out of my own heart: How long, the voice inquired, do you intend to avoid becoming yourself?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

A little while longer, I thought.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This year, on St. Stephen\u2019s Day, I\u2019m almost certain to find myself by a fire once again, looking into the flames, thinking about the road that lies ahead. My daughter, who spent the holidays in Maine with us, will be leaving that morning, stepping onboard an airplane bound for Australia, where she will be joining her fianc\u00e9\u2019s family, halfway around the world. I don\u2019t know when I will be seeing her again. Soon, I hope.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

From the woods outside comes the voice of the wren. The light returns.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

* * * * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Merry Christmas, friends\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

AR<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Beautifully written by Jennifer Finney Boylan, a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times, published 3 years ago\u2026] * * * * * It was my first Boxing Day in retail. There I was, sitting at the returns desk at Classics Books in Midtown Manhattan, 1980. A woman in a mink coat angrily dropped … <\/p>\n

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