Once upon a time in a magical place called Sugarloaf, there lived a Great King and His all-pure mystical brides. It was in December, they say, about a week before the Feast of the Great King's Nativity, when a poor woman from far away knocked on their door, seeking shelter. "We have plenty of room--you can live with us!" the mystical brides smiled kindly. And they did, and she did, and they all lived happily ever after. (So far, anyway.)
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If I have erred in any statement, whether directly or by implication, in any matter pertaining to faith or morals, I humbly invite fraternal correction.