From a dark cave-stable, where for sure a fire could not be ignited, to the daylight. This is the parabole of the Sun and of Jesus. Ours too, because it is true that we have inhabited the womb of our mother before seeing the light. A birth is always a festivity. The first one celebrated with the Baptism, which is a second symbolic birth. It begins in Church and it ends nearly always with a banquet that will be repeated in every following birthdays. Soon in the dusk, that precedes the morning, the day of your own birth is celebrated with the songs of the “magnanita” sung by relatives and friends at the door of your own house where it comes out naturally the outcry “Happy Birthday”. On the same style the Christmas Carols performed by group of christians on the month of December interposed with the exclamations “Merry Christmas”. Happy and merry because we still alive and we can go ahead with a sigh of relief. Every birthday and anniversary that we celebrated have the ability to darken our life with death. For this reason we must multiply the festivities in order to feel ourselves alive: from those of Birthdays, to those of Christmas and Passover, from the Feasts of Patrons and Saints to the Days of Foundations, to the Civil and Military recurrences, Saint Valentine, Halloween, reunions of families, club, clan, concerts, festivals, street dances of the ethnic AtiAtihan and carnivals, confraternites and ordinations, silver, gold and diamond anniversaries, for a successfully passing of a board-exam, for a grace received and also around the remains, in the coffin, of a deceased person who will not be able anymore to celebrate alive his or her own birthday if not the one only afterlife. But in the day of the interment in the cemetery, the Sun loses its importance because one returns to the mother-earth and the others, after the revels and anyhow, on her are still relying upon.

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