One of my favorite memories of Christmas Eve was the Children's Mass at St. Giles. We'd arrive at dusk. The church would be lit with a myriad candles. Incense permeated the air, and the altar would be decorated lavishly with poinsettias. On the left side of the altar, the Nativity scene would be displayed, minus the baby Jesus, who would be placed in the manger on Christmas morning. The liturgy was tailored to children with fewer and shorter Bible readings, and the chorus would sing carols throughout the service. The children would look adorable, dressed in their holiday finery, one cuter than the next. At the end of the service, we'd all sing Silent Night, any remaining lights would be dimmed, and, as we entoned " . . . all is calm, all is bright . . . " the children would turn on their flashlights, brought from home for just this event, and point them at the ceiling. All those little voices, all those moving lights, it was beautiful. I always got a lump in my throat. Talk about putting you in the holiday spirit. We'd then go home to our Christmas Eve celebration. I couldn't improve on this memory if I tried . . .