Historias: Christmas Love
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| Each December I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience.
I had cut back on nonessential obligations: extensive card writing,
endless baking, decorating, and even overspending.
Yet I still found myself exhausted, unable to fully appreciate the
precious family moments, and, of course, the true meaning of Christmas.
My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting
season for a six-year-old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his
school's Winter Pageant. I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be
working the night of the production.
Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher who
assured me there would be a dress rehearsal the morning of the
presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to
come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise. So,
the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early and
found a seat in the cafeteria. Around the room, I saw several other
parents quietly scampering to their seats.
As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class,
accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then each
group, one by one, rose to perform their song.
Because the public school system had stopped referring to the holiday as
"Christmas" I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial
entertainment: songs about reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes, and good
cheer. So when my son's class rose to sing "Christmas Love" I was
slightly taken aback by its bold title.
Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, who were adorned in
fuzzy mittens and red sweaters, with bright stocking caps on their
heads. Those in the front row, center stage, held up large letters, one
by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C
is for Christmas" a child would hold up the letter "C." Then, "H is for
Happy," and on and on, until each child holding his portion had
presented the complete message, "Christmas Love."
The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly we noticed her: a
small, quiet girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down.
She was unaware that reversed, her letter "M" appeared as a "W."
The audience of first- through sixth-graders snickered at this little
one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, and she
stood tall, proudly holding her "W."
Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter
continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together.
A hush came over the audience, and eyes began to widen.
In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we
celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos there
was a purpose for our festivities.
When the last letter was held high, the message read clear:
"CHRISTWAS LOVE" ("CHRIST WAS LOVE")
And I believe He still is.
-- Author: Candy Chand |
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