On Christmas Eve 1965, under a brilliant starry sky on a hill outside a cave above Bethlehem, I gathered with a small crowd of pilgrims of various faiths holding candles flickering like the stars as a Franciscan friar, Pere Gautier, the founder of a school for Jewish and Arab orphan children there, conducted a simple service celebrating the birth of the Son of Man in the most humble of circumstances.
The lay of the land doused the lights and sounds of the city. Sheep grazed on the hill among the ancient olive trees. They also seemed to faintly glow as did the silent communion of the souls under the stars
E.M. (Hum) Anderson
I did and do feel so blessed to live near Judithe Ann Gatto. She’s such a wonderful spirit. Her Christmas spirit lives on. Thank you to whomever turned on the lights. It would not be the same without her trees lit up! The block misses you, Judithe Ann.