Deceased Loved Ones at Christmas: What Saints and Mystics Say About Their Presence

Deceased loved ones at Christmas and the nostalgia of Heaven

For many people, the Christmas season is a joyful time with a hidden wound. Lights turn on, homes fill with decorations, songs speak of peace and celebration. Yet, right when everyone seems happiest, a deep silence opens in many hearts: the silence of those who are no longer here. At Christmas the empty chair is more visible, the picture on the shelf speaks louder, a certain smell or melody suddenly brings back a voice we haven’t heard for years. It is the time of year when our deceased loved ones at Christmas seem both farther away and strangely closer.

Christian faith does not deny this pain. It does not pretend that loss does not hurt. But it sheds light on it. Saints and mystics, in different centuries and places, tell us stories and experiences that help us glimpse a consoling truth: our deceased loved ones have not disappeared into nothingness. They continue to live in God. And especially at Christmas, when the Church contemplates God made a Child, the bond with them can become deeper than we imagine.

Deceased loved ones at Christmas in the Heaven of St. Thérèse

Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, the “Little Thérèse” of Lisieux, confided a surprising desire to her sisters shortly before she died. She did not want to spend Heaven far away from earth, in a kind of distant contemplation. She wanted to stay close to the people she loved. She used to say that she would “spend her Heaven doing good on earth” and that she would make “a shower of roses” fall upon those who invoked her with trust.

Deceased Loved Ones

With these simple images Thérèse was saying that death would not make her a stranger to her loved ones. On the contrary, it would make her even more capable of taking care of them. The history of the Church is full of testimonies of graces received through her intercession, often marked by those very roses she promised.

Thinking of her on Christmas night changes something inside. As we look at the crib and feel the absence of our own deceased loved ones at Christmas, we can imagine those who have already entered God’s Heaven living something similar to Thérèse’s promise: a Heaven spent “doing good” for those who are still walking through the difficulties of this world. Our deceased loved ones at Christmas are not only a sad memory; they are part of a living communion of love that death cannot break.

Padre Pio and the Christmas Mass shared with the departed

Saint Pio of Pietrelcina also had a very intense relationship with souls in the afterlife. Those who lived close to him recall that, during his Masses and long nights of prayer, he often perceived the presence of souls in purgatory. He himself once said that “more souls of the dead than of the living” came to his friary to attend his Masses and ask for suffrages.

One episode, reported by several witnesses, is particularly striking. One night a friar found Padre Pio in church talking to someone whom he, the friar, could not see. Padre Pio later explained that it was a man who had died years before in a fire, still in purgatory and in need of Masses and prayers in order to be freed. The next day, checking the records, they found both the man’s name and the event of the fire exactly as Padre Pio had described.

Stories like this, carefully passed down by his brothers, show that there is indeed a real link between Heaven, purgatory and earth. Souls who are still undergoing purification ask for our help, but at the same time they intercede for us. In God’s mystery their prayer, united to the suffering they endure, becomes powerful.

When we attend Midnight Mass or Christmas Day Mass, we can imagine that we are not alone at the altar. The souls of our loved ones stand beside us, invisible yet present, drawn to the same sacrifice of Christ. Our deceased loved ones at Christmas are not distant spectators; they are hidden worshippers who pray with us and for us.

Saint Faustina, Mary and purgatory

Saint Faustina Kowalska, the apostle of Divine Mercy, describes in her Diary very intense visions of purgatory. In one of them she writes that her guardian angel led her to that place of purification. She felt the pain of the souls, their deep longing for God, but she also perceived a great hope. They are immersed in a mysterious fire that burns away what is not yet pure, yet they are certain they are going toward the light.

In another experience Faustina sees Our Lady visiting those souls. They call her “Star of the Sea” and say that her presence brings relief and refreshment. It is an image of extraordinary tenderness: the same Mother who holds Jesus in her arms at Bethlehem descends to comfort those who are still waiting to enter fully into Heaven.

In the Christmas season this scene becomes especially precious. When we put the statue of Mary next to the Child in our crib at home, we can remember that Mary not only caresses the Son of God, but also the souls of our deceased loved ones. She visits them, encourages them and draws them closer to the light. If our home on Christmas Eve is filled with nostalgia, we can speak to her very simply and ask her to take care of those we miss, to bring them nearer to eternal joy and to bring to us a share of their peace.

Maria Simma and the mystery of deceased loved ones at Christmas

In more recent times, an Austrian woman named Maria Simma became known for her experiences with souls in purgatory. For decades, according to testimonies from priests and Catholic authors who met her, she was visited by souls asking for prayers, Masses and sacrifices.

Among the many things she reported, one detail is especially consoling. Maria said that these souls had confided something very beautiful: among all days of the year, Christmas is the day when the greatest number of souls are released from purgatory, together with other great feasts like Good Friday and the Assumption. This is not official doctrine, but a private revelation that fits well with the logic of faith: precisely when the Church prays more intensely and many Masses are celebrated, God’s mercy is poured in a special way upon those who still await the full vision of His face.

If we look at Christmas only with human eyes, it often seems to be nothing more than a frantic race between shopping, meals and travel. But in the light of these testimonies we can sense something else. In the silence of tabernacles, in tiny chapels and great cathedrals alike, the Lord is opening the doors of His house to many souls who have finished their time of purification. Our deceased loved ones at Christmas are not only remembered; many of them are welcomed definitively into Heaven thanks to the prayer of the Church.

Maria Simma also said that one of the greatest sufferings of souls in purgatory is feeling forgotten by those they loved on earth. Perhaps, without realizing it, we have let months or even years pass without a Mass, without a rosary, without any concrete act offered for them. Christmas can become the moment to begin again: a candle lit near the crib with their name, a confession and communion offered for them, a small act of charity done in their memory.

A Christmas inhabited by those we loved

When seen in this light, the pain of grief is not erased, but transformed. We do not pretend that the wound is gone; we carry it to the grotto of Bethlehem. We imagine our loved ones, if they are already in God’s light, contemplating the Child whom we see only as a little statue. We imagine them praying for us, asking peace for our families, supporting our faith when temptations and trials weigh us down.

And if some of them are still on their way through purgatory, we accompany them with tenderness, certain that every Mass, every communion and every prayer brings them closer to the day of their final embrace with the Lord. In this perspective, our deceased loved ones at Christmas are not a shadow cast upon the feast, but a reason to live it more deeply. The God who became a Child gathers around Himself the living and the dead, embraces those who remain and those who have already departed, wipes the tears of those who weep and frees the souls of those who still await the vision of His face.

If, in this season, you feel the absence of someone almost unbearably, do not suppress that longing. Bring it to the crib. Speak their name during a simple prayer. Entrust them to the Christ Child and to His Mother. The love that united you has not been destroyed by death; it lives in God, and in Him it can become stronger and purer than ever.

If this article has brought some peace to your heart and helped you look at your deceased loved ones at Christmas with more hope, you can continue to follow us by subscribing to our website and receiving our newsletter with more content of faith and consolation.