On my 70th birthday, 26th December 2024, my heart and mind overflow with nostalgia as I stroll down memory lane.

Let me begin with a playful riddle: What fruit would you get if a mango were cross-pollinated with a jackfruit? Don’t strain your brain—the answer is me and my nine siblings! Yes, we came into this world when Mammoottil Mathachen (M.S. Mathew) and Plammoottil Chinnamma united in holy matrimony in 1943.

I am the sixth among ten siblings, positioned right in the middle. As I turn 70, my eldest brother, Josekuttychayan (CA Scaria Mathew), who is no longer with us, would have been 80, while our youngest sibling, Thomacha, celebrated his 60th birthday this year. My dear cousin, Dr. M.J. Cherian, who has also passed, would have marked his 90th birthday.

My pet name, Kuttappen, carries a special story. I was named after my cousin, Rev. Dr. Scaria Mammoottil S.J. (Kuttappen), who joined the Jesuit order in June 1954. So, this year marks the 70th anniversary of his entry into the Jesuit congregation.

This birthday serves as a reminder that our generation continues to move forward in our journey through this world. My heart is filled with love and gratitude for my parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, and cousins, who have shaped and guided me throughout these 70 years. My prayers are with all those among them who have departed from this world.

Names are more than labels; they carry stories and traditions. My name, Stephen, is rare in our community, and people often ask about its origin. Some even assume it’s because I was born on St. Stephen’s feast day. The fact is, according to Syrian Christian tradition, the first son is named after the paternal grandfather, and the second after the maternal grandfather. Being the second son, I was named after my maternal grandfather, Plammoottil Pannose (a shortened form of Esthapannose). This tradition has preserved the uniqueness of my name across generations.

In September this year, my son Mathew (Mathachen) welcomed his third child—a son after two daughters. He was officially named Steve during his baptism, tactfully scheduled today by my son. The name Pannose has journeyed across five generations, evolving from Malayalam to Stephen, and now to Steve. I wonder how it will transform—will it endure or take on a new form?

My career journey was filled with unexpected twists:

• As a youngster, I aspired to be a priest. Though I didn’t, I was given a post at St. Berchmans College occupied only by priests.
• I planned to pursue an MBA but couldn’t. Yet, I became the Director of three MBA institutes for 15 years.
• I never intended to be a teacher, but I spent 43 years teaching—ten years beyond the official tenure. I am a passionate advocate of this ‘profession of professions.’ Big thanks to the management, my colleagues, and thousands of my dear students.

God Almighty never fulfilled my plans as I envisioned, but He placed me in roles far beyond what I desired or deserved.

As Proverbs 17:6 beautifully states, “Grandchildren are the crown of the aged.” Steve is the seventh of the crowns gifted to us by God through my three children. One precious crown was taken back by Him, and now we eagerly await the arrival of our eighth crown, which is on the way.

The christening of a grandchild coinciding with my 70th birthday feels symbolic—a baton passed down through generations. Not just a name, but a legacy entrusted to Steve, one that he will uphold in his own unique circumstances.

In the words of Khalil Gibran: “Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.” Life’s purpose continues to unfold through new generations, reminding me that my purpose in this world is being fulfilled.

Today, I celebrate not just the passage of time, but the richness of these experiences and the enduring legacy they represent. I am filled with cherished memories, deep connections, countless blessings, and a profound sense of contentment and fulfillment.

All Glory to the Almighty.