Merry Christmas Everyone!
In memory of my dad:
The Christmas after I lost my father, I couldn’t even think of a tree. I bought one and never took it out of the bucket in the garage. Instead I hung a few decorations from the chandelier in the dining room and half heartedly went through the motions. Since Dad was a minister, and Christmas is the “heavy season” for all that religious stuff, I could barely sit through the services.
Then, the miracle. I was at my church in Hawaii for the midnight Christmas Eve service, feeling very lost and sad. The church was packed and people were sitting on the aisle stairs. The church is a theater in the round with a pulpit in the center at the bottom of the horseshoe. Behind the pastor, the magnificent Pacific ocean roars not 25 feet away.
I sat in the first row. In the darkened church, candles tossed the congregation’s reflection onto massive floor-to-ceiling windows…It looked like we were joined by a choir of angels.
While we sang “Away in a manger”, I heard a rustle near my feet. A young mother had brought her newborn to church and laid her on a blanket on the floor. There before me was the miracle of Christmas.
It was as if my dad had sent a message of redemption. That this is, after all, why we celebrate… not the madness of the mall, not the tree, not the family gatherings. Just a simple child. A message from God that the world must go on. That even in the face of death there is this life to be lived, this soul to express, this promise to be kept.
In that moment, peace washed over me.
And whenever I felt sad or missed my dad, I closed my eyes and saw that little child. And, years later, when I was reeling from my divorce, I saw that young mother and her then-five-year old daughter. Again the reminder, again an affirmation of life, and once again I was blessed.
Look for the miracles around you. They are messages of love. I know we are all now so careful not to offend by saying “Merry Christmas” – lest the person celebrates Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Buddha’s birthday, or something else. No matter what someone wishes you, they are wishing you love. Let that be OK with you. There is never a need to take offense when someone is just wishing you well.
And for those who are suffering this Holiday season because of a loss, remember, those who have gone before us are all around us . They wish you well, and they are laughing with the angels now. Remember that.
Blessings to you and your families, no matter how you celebrate this time. It’s a reminder to stop, celebrate life, and remember who you are.
To Love,
Beth
~~~~
Beth Terry, CSP, is a Professional Speaker, Author and Trainer. The above is paraphrased from a story in her book Walking in a Crowd of Angels.
@ 1998-2007 Beth Terry Seminars, Inc.
Ron – thanks for writing. It’s amazing how much joy an innocent baby can bring to a place.. especially a retirement home. There is something in that innocence that appeals to most of us at some level. And, yep, we’re getting up there. But it’s all good. Have a beautiful Christmas!
Beth
Thankyou for the comment on the newborn baby. Reminds me of today (Dec.25) when I was at the nursing home for the noon meal with my folks. An older lady (resident) in a wheelchair was coming through the dining room holding a baby dressed in a red garment (festive color for the holiday). She was being pushed by a young man, most likely her grandson. I asked how old the baby was – I could see it was very young. He said with a big smile, just under 2 weeks. Grandma, most likely Great grandma, was so proud though she didn’t seem able to speak. They went by many tables and so many people took a smiling look. The parents and grandparent were so proud. What a sight in a nursing home, where so many are on the last few steps of their lives. And then comes along this new life so small and innocent. After a while I see some more people join them. Rough, coarse, gray hair, gray scruffy beard: they look as if they had a knock down, garbage can life. I think they were the grandpa of the child, and son to the older lady. Later I heard the name Frewaldt. I looked over and thought, is this the Frewaldts near our age? If this is true, how could a person our age look so old and scruffy? If it was the Frewaldt I once knew, how could they change so much I didn’t recognize them? By now the folks wanted to go back to their rooms and we left the dining area. I wonder- my gosh- have I changed that much?