The first Christmas will always be remembered. To our surprise the Navajos knew the day was coming. We would have Mass, as on Sundays, but after Mass was over, all who came would be our honored guests at our Christmas dinner.

Meat was given out, fires blazed up in many places around the Mission House, and family groups gathered around. The women boiled or broiled the meat, made dough and patted it into flat circles which they baked on grills over the embers or fried in skillets. It was a most colorful picture. Horses, saddled, stood around; there were many wagons; even small children in bright skirts and blouses, or shirts and denim slacks, with wide-brimmed hats or cloth headbands, adorned the scene. An archery contest had been announced. On the side of a carton I made a rabbit target and explained the manner of scoring, and the men went at it. A few had brought their own bows and arrows, others used mine. We started with the target at a distance of about seventy-five or eight feet, but everyone complained that that was too far, and we moved up to about fifty feet. Some very fine shooting resulted. It was the older men only who took part; the young men and older boys looked on, fascinated but every suggestion that they try was met with silly giggles and mutters of "Hola"–"I don’t know."

We had something else, quite special and unique. It was a crib group of figurines, made of clay by one of my gifted former parishioners in the East, depicting Blessed Mary and Joseph, the shepherds (we had learned by this time to call them sheepherders) and the Wise Men From the East who were, logically, Pawnees in full war bonnets. The Babe was in a Navajo cradleboard and the parents were in traditional Navajo dress. I think that this graphic representation did more than any one thing to bring home the basic idea of Christmas. Again and again people came in throughout the day to see the group, the news having gone around, and more than once we saw them pointing to the creche and then to the crucifix, and from the little we could understand of their words they were calling attention to the fact that here was the Savior as a baby and here He was offering His sacrifice.—Father Liebler, Boil My Heart for Me

Many [Navajos] had traveled a long way by horse and wagon to be a the mission for the Christmas celebration. On Christmas Day we had Mass at 10:30 a.m. and then the Navajo women took over. A host of small fires were started. Some of the women cut up the mutton we had furnished and started cooking it while others made Navajo fry bread and coffee. We furnished the flour, baking powder and lard and coffee. While this was going on the men had an archery contest under the Padre’s supervision. Believe it or not we had to teach some of the young fellows how to use a bow. The man who won the prize brought his own Navajo bow and shot from the hip. It was shaped like a half circle and about thirty inches long. After dinner candy and toys were given to the children. With one accord the Navajo left the Mission and headed along the base of the cliff towards Bluff. The bright colored Pendleton blankets, the gay colors of the women’s dresses, the prancing horses, the red sandstone cliffs, and the setting sun all made me wish for a camera, words cannot give a true picture.—Brother Juniper’s Tales of Navajoland