Christmas Eve -- Oh, the joyous wonder of it! -- came at last, and it was the best day of all.

Unlike today's heavy shopper, we were not all tired out. We were so filled with excitement and expectancy that we could hardly contain ourselves.

And, unlike her, we were not anxious for the day to end. And, I'm sure, neither was our mother, for she liked nothing better than having a houseful of company to cook for.

Everything was ready. Our mother was doing something in the kitchen, getting a head start on tomorrow's dinner.

For our supper, we had the traditional Christmas Eve oyster stew. Later, we all dressed in our Sunday best (and warmest) and made ready to go to Midnight Mass.

I liked it best when the snow lay deep, for then we went by bobsled. Our father dressed up the harness with sleigh bells which jingled merrily as the horses trotted along the road to the village. The sled-runners added their own special blend of squeaks, creaks and screeches as they sped over the hard-packed snow.

The sky was studded with a million twinkling stars and the bright moon shining down upon the snow transformed fencerows and fields into a glistening fairyland of blue-white diamonds.

I loved every minute of those rides, even though I was sure that I was turning into a block of ice. With warm cap pulled over my ears, a wool scarf tied over my nose and mouth, my hand-me-down gray wolf fur stole and muff over my heavy coat, long underwear under heavy long stockings, and my button shoes, I should have been warm -- but the cold cut through my clothes and stung my skin like icy needles.

I hoped we'd get there early enough to get a pew near the stove.

Of course, the first thing we did after entering the church was to visit the crib. (We would not have known the meaning of the word "crêche.") "Crib," of course, pertained to the makeshift manger-crib in which the baby Jesus was lain after birth.

Each Christmastime a rustic stable was set up in the left-front of the little white frame church. Mary was kneeing by the crib in which the infant lay, while Joseph stood beside her. There were shepherds, sheep, a cow and an ox, the donkey, the three wise men bringing gifts, their camels, and -- above the stable an angel bearing the message of "Glory to God in the highest. Peace on earth, good will to men."

Cedar boughs were set behind the stable to look like trees and above them was the star -- the star of Bethlehem. I loved to stand and look at the crib. It was so pretty.

Long before the living Nativity scenes, the figures were only statues, but I thought that crib was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

It was appropriate that we visit the crib for it, as the representation of the birth of the Baby Jesus, reminded us that His birth was the true meaning of Christmas. That it was, in fact, our first Christmas.

Then we'd go across the church to find a pew as close to the stove as possible.

The organ was playing now -- all the Christmas carols and hymns. It was so wonderfully peaceful, sitting there with the beautiful music flowing all around us and the heat from the old wood stove trickling through me.

At midnight, Mass began. More Christmas carols during Mass, sung by the choir.

After Mass, there were brief visits with friends and neighbors to wish them a Merry Christmas, then back into the sled for the run home.

We huddled around the dining room stove to get warm, then our mother brought in coffee and fresh coffee cake. We set out a mug of milk and a plate of cookies for Santa before finally going off to bed.

Too excited to sleep, I just lay there waiting for such time that it would be safe to sneak in to the Christmas tree. Sometime around four o'clock the door opened to show old Santa himself. A cheery "Ho-ho-ho" and he was gone.

And I hit the Christmas tree.