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A New and Glorious Morn

Joseph B. Walker

valuespeak@msn.com

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I was guilty ??“ no question about it.  The police officer flashing his lights in my rear view mirror had me dead to rights.  I was speeding.  I knew it.  And worse ??“ the officer knew it.

 I rolled my eyes and looked at my tousled hair in the mirror.  I hadn??™t showered or shaved yet.  In fact, I was still in my jammies.  I had just thrown on a jacket so I could drive my daughter to school, which meant I didn??™t have my wallet ??“ or my driver??™s license ??“ with me.

Great.  Not only was I guilty of speeding, but I was also guilty of driving without my license ??“ and looking extremely tacky.  I had visions of spending Christmas in the Big House, complete with festive orange jump suits, institutional cranberry sauce on processed turkey hash and some hairy Neanderthal eyeing me while humming ???Merry Christmas, Darling.???

As the officer made his way to my car I tried running through a few excuses.  There was that car that was coming up so fast behind me.  And it was cold outside, and I was trying to warm up the car.  And it??™s not good for modern automobile engines to go slow, is it?  And dang it, it??™s Christmas ??“ who can concentrate on speed limits when there??™s debt to be incurred!

???Good morning, sir,??? the fresh-faced young officer said as I rolled down the window.  ???I pulled you over for speeding.  Were you aware that you were speeding????

???I . . . uh . . . well . . .I . . .???  For some reason, I couldn??™t get any of those excuses out.  So I just said: ???I guess I wasn??™t really paying attention.???

The officer smiled.  ???Well, at least you??™re honest about it,??? he said kindly.  He took my registration and insurance cards and took them back to his car to do . . . well, whatever it is that police officers do in their cars.  Meanwhile, I sat there in my jammies and fretted and worried and stewed ??“ about the cost of the ticket that was sure to come, about the horrifyingly possible results of my inattentive driving and, of course, about that Neanderthal.

Guilt, it turns out, can really mess with your mind.

At last the officer returned to my window.  ???Mr. Walker,??? he said, ???I??™m going to let you go with only a warning this morning.???

I was stunned.  Relieved.  Thrilled.  Yes, Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus.

The officer bent to look me directly in the eye.  ???Please be careful on our streets,??? he said with an urgent tone that suggested there would be no such mercy if there ever was a next time.  Then he smiled and added: ???And please enjoy the Christmas symbolism.???

Christmas symbolism?  Where??™s the symbolism in being pulled over for speeding?  But since I wasn??™t about to argue with the officer, I began to consider symbolic possibilities.  It could be said that he was giving me a gift, which made him sort of like the magi, the little drummer boy and Santa Claus all wrapped up in one.  Was that the symbolism he was talking about?

I pulled away from the curb and slowly, cautiously began to drive home.  The morning was bleak and cold, but somehow I felt warm and good ??“ and not just because the heater in the van had finally kicked in.  On the radio Josh Groban was singing ???Oh Holy Night???:

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Suddenly the officer??™s ???Christmas symbolism??? became clear.  It wasn??™t about presents that can be purchased and exchanged.  It wasn??™t even about the Biblical offerings of gold, frankincense and myrrh.  It was about the gift of a child, and the ???new and glorious morn??? of eternal hope that dawned that Holy night in Bethlehem.         

 Especially for those of us who are . . . you know . . . guilty.

Joseph Walker