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Halfway through December, we
were doing the regular evening things when there was a knock at the door. We
opened it to find a small package with a beautiful ceramic lamb inside. We
looked at the calendar and realized that the 12 days of Christmas were
beginning!!
We waited excitedly for the
next night's surprise and only then, with the gift of a matching shepherd, did
we realized that the lamb was part of a nativity set.
Each night we grew more
excited to see what piece we would receive. Each was exquisitely beautiful. The
kids kept trying to catch the givers as we slowly built the scene at the manager
and began to focus on Christ's birth.
On Christmas Eve, all the
pieces were in place, but the baby Jesus. My 12 year-old son really wanted to
catch our benefactors and began to devise all kinds of ways to trap them. He ate
his dinner in the mini-van watching and waiting, but no one came.
Finally we called him in to
go through our family's Christmas Eve traditions. But before the kids went to
bed we checked the front step - no Baby Jesus! We began to worry that my son had
scared them off. My husband suggested that maybe they dropped the Jesus and
there wouldn't be anything coming. Somehow, something was missing that Christmas
Eve.
There was a feeling that
things weren't complete. The kids went to bed and I put out Christmas cookies,
but before I went to bed I again checked to see if the Jesus had come - no, the
doorstep was empty.
In our family the kids can
open their stockings when they want to, but they have to wait to open any
presents until Dad wakes up. So one by one they woke up very early and I also
woke up to watch them. Even before they opened their stockings, each child
checked to see if perhaps during the night the baby Jesus had come. Missing that
piece of the set seemed to have an odd effect. At least it changed my focus. I
knew there were presents under the tree for me and I was excited to watch the
children open their gifts, but first on my mind was the feeling of waiting for
the ceramic Christ Child.
We had opened just about all
of the presents when one of the children found one more for me buried deep
beneath the limbs of the tree. He handed me a small package from my former
visiting teaching companion. This sister was somewhat less active in the church.
I had learned over time they didn't have much for Christmas, so that their focus
was the children. It sounded like she didn't get many gifts to open, so I had
always given her a small package - new dish towels, the next year's lesson
manual-not much, but something for her to open. I was touched when at Church on
the day before Christmas, she had given me this small package, saying it was
just a token of her love and appreciation.
As I took off the bow, I
remembered my friendship with her and was filled with gratitude for knowing her
and for her kindness and sacrifice in this year giving me a gift. But as the
paper fell away, I began to tremble and cry. There in the small brown box was
the baby Jesus. He had come!
I realized on that Christmas
Day that Christ will come into our lives in ways that we don't expect. The
spirit of Christ comes into our hearts as we serve one another. We had waited
and watched for him to come, expecting the dramatic "knock at the door and
scurrying of feet" but he came in a small, simple package that represented
service, friendship, gratitude, and love.
This experience taught me
that the beginning of the true spirit of Christmas comes as we open our hearts
and actively focus on the Savior. But we will most likely find him in the small
and simple acts of love, friendship and service that we give to each other.
This Christmas I want to feel again the joy of knowing that Christ is
in our home. I want to focus
on loving and serving. More than that I want to open my heart to him all year
that I may see him again. |
