Home for the holidays
We are all making immediate or remote preparations for the season of salvation which Advent heralds. I switched my car stereo to a Christmas station this week and heard Michael Bublé singing “There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays.”
For the holidays you can’t beat home sweet home. No matter how far away you may roam. Instantly I reminisced about trips to home for Christmas.
Grandparents, uncles and aunts, Midnight Mass and family revelry! It is not too early to anticipate happiness.
The magic is not all in Frosty’s old silk hat. Recently I watched a TV Christmas movie where a songwriter was asked what makes a Christmas carol special. She explained that it has to have childhood memories, and the sweetest of these involve spirituality. The baby in a manger, the Christ Child or Santa, and love.
The next song on my holiday radio station was a Bing Crosby song, followed by Perry Como. I was well on my way to the joy I want to share with my readers. Christmas tears happily can be part of our remote preparation as the following story from author unknown illustrates:
It was only four days before Christmas. The spirit of the season hadn't yet caught up with me. Cars packed the parking lot and shoppers jammed the aisles. My feet ached almost as much as my head. I hurriedly filled my cart and picked the shortest checkout line.
In front of me were two small children, a boy of about five and a younger girl. The boy wore a ragged coat. Tattered tennis shoes jutted far out in front of his too short jeans. He clutched several crumpled dollar bills. The girl's clothing resembled her brother's. But she carried a beautiful pair of shiny, gold, house slippers.
When we finally approached the checkout register, the girl carefully placed the shoes on the counter. The clerk rang up the bill. "That will be $6.09," she said.
The boy laid his crumpled dollars atop the stand while he searched his pockets. He finally came up with $3.12. "I guess we will have to put them back," he bravely said. "We will come back some other time, maybe tomorrow."
A soft sob broke from the little girl. "But Jesus would have loved these shoes," she cried.
"Well, we'll go home and work some more. Don't cry. We'll come back," he said.
I handed $3.00 to the cashier. These children had waited in line for a long time. And, after all, it was Christmas. Suddenly a pair of arms came around me and a small voice said, "Thank you lady."
"What did you mean when you said Jesus would like the shoes?" I asked.
The boy answered, "Our mommy is sick and going to heaven. Daddy said she might go before Christmas to be with Jesus."
The girl spoke, "My Sunday school teacher said the streets in heaven are shiny gold, just like these shoes. Won't mommy be beautiful walking on those streets to match these shoes?"
My eyes flooded as I looked into her tear-streaked face. "Yes," I answered, "I am sure she will." Silently I thanked God for using these children to remind me of the true spirit of giving."
(542 words)
