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A Christmas story

The Highland County Press - Staff Photo - Create Article
Fr. Mike Paraniuk

By Fr. Mike Paraniuk
St. Mary Catholic Church
St. Benignus Catholic Church 
St. Mary Queen of Heaven
and Holy Trinity Catholic Church

Harry was a big burly looking guy who worked construction all his life. He was strong as an ox with huge hands calloused from years of hard labor. If Harry dyed his red hair and beard white, he could play a perfect Santa Claus. I met Harry toward the end of his long life when he was dying of cancer. 

He shared with me this unforgettable Christmas story.

Harry was one of the first Seabees created in 1942 during World War II. Seabees built every road and airport used by our soldiers in the Pacific Islands. Harry bragged about his skill with a bulldozer. He joked, "I could make a bulldozer pop a wheelie." Operating a bulldozer was a dangerous job. Harry explained why. 

"I was a sitting target perched in that cab giving a clear shot for Japanese snipers. Sometimes it got so bad I had to turn the bucket upside down and hide inside. "

The day finally came that brought joy to everyone around the world. On Sept. 2,1945, the Japanese surrendered. 

Harry recalled, "The victory celebration was wild. Everyone was downing bottles of either sake or bourbon." The commanding officer spoke the words that made his dream come true. "Harry, it's over. Go home, son."

The trip from Australia to Norwood, Ohio took many days. The Pacific storms made a lot of soldiers seasick, followed by an uncomfortable four-day train ride from San Francisco. Harry arrived at Union Terminal in Cincinnati on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. 

I will now let Harry tell the story in his own words:

The hardest part of my journey was getting from Union Terminal to Norwood. My family didn't know I was coming home. So, I grabbed my duffle bag and started walking. A wet snow was falling down in buckets so hard I looked like a walking snowman. I was so cold, but my desire to get home kept me warm.

I walked about three miles when a guy driving an old black Ford farm truck gave me a ride. He knew I was in the military, seeing my government-issued green overcoat. I told him I was gone for three years. That guy went out of his way and drove me right to the front door of my mother-in-law's house where my wife stayed during the war. He thanked me for my service and said while departing, "The reason why you survived is right behind that door."

He was right. I began to shake with emotion as I walked up the worn wooden steps. I peered through the icy window to see my wife and mother-in-law preparing the table for dinner. Then I saw another reason for my hope. There she is...my daughter! This is the first time I got to see her, as Anita was pregnant when I left. My baby girl has red hair just like her dad. For three years, I stayed strong in the face of whizzing bullets, the threat of getting malaria and the fear of capture. I never cried once. But now as I beheld my beautiful child, all my emotions let loose. I cried like a baby. 

I regained my composure. Now, I was ready to walk through the door. I knocked on the locked door. My mother-in-law opened the door, took one look at me and fainted in my arms. I caught her with my left arm. My wife, Anita, quickly came over. 

She yelled, "Harry!," then fainted. I caught her in my right arm. I plopped both of them onto the couch. When they awoke, we held each other tightly in a group hug for a long time. There were so many tears we could have irrigated a cornfield. This moment that I could only dream about is now happening. I never wanted it to end. Home never felt so good.

After drying her tears, Anita said, "Harry, let's go meet your daughter." 

Anita called for 3-year-old Elizabeth, who by now was playing in her bedroom. Anita introduced us saying, "Elizabeth, this is your daddy." 

My daughter took one look at me, then looking up to her mother declared, "I don't like this daddy. I want another one." 

My appearance scared her. I had this gruffy beard, long tangled hair and wore this ugly green coat. Once I took a bath, shaved the beard and put on some nice clothes, then Elizabeth said, "Mommy, we can keep him." 

I have celebrated many wonderful Christmases with her since. I'm glad she kept me.

Christmas is the celebration that God desires to make His home with us. God wants this so much He even named His Son "God with us." 

“Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, a name which means ‘God is with us.’” (Matthew 1:23.) 

God wants this so much He sent Jesus to fight a war with the devil to get us back. After Jesus won that war, He promised never to leave. His home with us is permanent. "I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20.) 

God wants to make a home in your heart. How do I welcome Jesus into my heart? When you heed the cries of anyone in need with care and compassion, then your heart will become a comfortable home for the Lord.

Christmas is just not a date on the calendar, but a way of life. The comedian Bob Hope once said, “My idea of Christmas is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?”

Merry Christmas. Blessings to you all. 

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