CHRISTMAS 1979
Dear Theophilus of St. Thomas',
Gingwiggle, the Lord of the Keepers of the Doors of the heart and mind stopped by my study this morning. The Limpock was animated as ever. His pale green face was alive with that thin white crescent smile when he asked, "What is the color of Christmas?"
I tried to ignore him, as usual, while his right leg wiggled and dangled over his left knee. I responded, "Green, red, gold and white I suppose."
All thin two feet of him shook with laughter. I frowned as his brush-like grayish green eyebrows rose. "White isn't a color," He snickered.
"Technically, yes. But try telling that to most people. Besides it's the color of the vestments and altar hangings. . .You're not going to catch me in one of your word traps!" I stared at those gleaming yellowed eyes with the ebony pupils. "White is Christmas because it is purity of love. It is the fullness of God pushing back the darkness of sin. It represents how clean the Babe can make our hearts, souls and mind." I sat back in my chair full of satisfaction. Gingwiggle's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well?" I asked. "Has the cat finally gotten your tongue?"
The Limpock roared a high pitched giggle. He tilted back his head in laughter. The little pointed green cap went askew and his silver spectacles fell down that bulbous banana-shaped nose. He straightened the cap, pushed the spectacles up the ridge of his nose and fell into solemn quietness. "You're correct," he said staring from the edge of the desk. "I repeat. White is not a color. The technicality is the point. You so easily misinterpret the sign that is white. What did Noah see in the sky? What did the long sleeved robe of Joseph look like?"
My mind was spinning and blurted, "Colors! Many colors of a . . ."
"The Rainbow," Gingwiggle smiled. "Like my friend Kermit sings, 'Why are there so many songs about rainbows and what's on the other side?'" The Lord of the Limpocks sounded soft and gentle. "Start with the primaries. Red for the blood the Child will shed. Blue for the sadness experienced. Yellow, the color of gold for the victory won. Mix them and stir them into royal purple, great green for growth and life, brown for the rich earth, orange for a drop of light. Put them all together and you have the fullness of His Majesty's love. The color of Christmas is the rainbow. May the rainbow of His Majesty's love color your heart when you see the Child in the manger." Gingwiggle had lowered his head as if he was praying. He looked up with that chiding smile and asked, "What color is Christmas?"
I responded, "The fullness of a rainbow; white!"
He said, "Tell Theophilus." He whispered in Spanish, "de colores," and disappeared.
I whispered back, "La Natividad de colores."
Your friend in Christ,
Fr. Col+