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When animals speak Christmas is a blur of people: There are parties, family gatherings, church functions, even anonymous encounters with exhausted but somehow still-friendly shoppers in the teeming malls. In the midst of this, my family spends Christmas Eve celebrating the non-humans among us. My parents, husband, and I, armed with 12 loaves of bread, meet at the beach at sunrise. Seagulls swarm above us, giddy at the sight of so much food. They come close enough for us to touch, some even pecking at us in excitement. We then take our dogs for a walking tour of neighborhood Christmas decorations. They mark off their favorite houses (really it's not an insult) and bark at any Rudolphs or Santas. Back at my parents' house, the pups get their gifts. Christmas Eve ends with a moonlit walk at midnight. Legend holds that in the hours between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, if you listen with your heart instead of your head, you will hear the animals speak. Every year my father and I go out to listen, hoping we will be so blessed. That peaceful interlude sustains us through the season's chaotic revelry and the year ahead. MICHELLE R. ST. JAMES Malden

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