Do
you want to hear a good Christmas story? See that house over there, the red
brick one with the large oak tree in the front yard? Inside that house is a
young girl that has lost hope this Christmas season. Her grandmother also lives
there; it is her story, her Christmas story that you should hear. See that
window just to the right of the oak tree? That is the kitchen window. The girl
and her grandmother are in there now. If you go stand by the tree, you will be
able to hear her story. The grandmother left the window open just enough to
cool the Christmas pies. You will be able to smell those also. You would think
that you entered Heaven’s bakery! But you mustn’t touch. Just listen.
∞
“What
do you want most for Christmas this year?” Her grandmother asked.
Carmen
thought for a moment. She didn’t want to hurt her grandmother’s feelings, but
Carmen already knew that this Christmas would not be like the ones of the past.
Grandpa had died in the spring of the year and her grandmother had moved in
with her family. Grandma living with them really wasn’t so bad—Carmen had to
share a room with her little sister so that Grandma could have her own room—but
her kid sister looked up to her and she kind of liked that.
In
August, her father had lost his job. That was the real problem. He was working
now, but not making as much money. Mom said they had fallen behind on so many
bills that it would be well into the new year before they caught up. Carmen
knew that having a nice Christmas was more important for her little sister,
Beth. Beth was only seven years old and not old enough yet to understand things
like past due bills.
Her
parents had never discussed things like finances with her. They were always
very careful to speak about such things only if the children were not in the
room, even when things had still been good. Her dad was always saying, “Let kids be kids. No reason to make them
grow up too fast.” Mom thought he was being over-protective. Dad said that
was his job.
Carmen had turned thirteen this year. She was
a teenager! So when her mother had sat down to talk about this year’s Christmas,
telling her how difficult it would be to surround the tree with gifts, she felt
very mature. Very grown up. (And maybe just a little sad.)
Carmen
thought about her grandmother’s question. The truth was—she really wasn’t
looking forward to Christmas at all. If she could have anything she wanted for
Christmas she would want things back the way they were. The life she had before
grandpa died, before her dad lost his job. She wanted her parents to be able to
answer the phone without fear that it was another bill collector calling.
She
wanted her own room back.
She
didn’t say any of this to her grandmother.
“I
don’t know Grandma; I haven’t really thought a lot about it.”
Her
grandmother smiled, looking at her first grandchild. She admired Carmen’s long
dark hair that flowed effortlessly over her shoulders. Her own hair had been
like that so many years ago. Now it was short and silver, very grandmotherly-like.
“Well
how about a real nice brush? Your hair is so beautiful and should be cared for
with the finest of brushes.”
“That
would be nice Grandma. But I have a good brush. Besides you shouldn’t be
spending money on such things. Dad said we should all be saving in case the
unexpected comes again.”
“Your
father is just like his father. Pennywise to the core.” She said smiling. “But
it is Christmas! A time for joy and putting smiles on the face of children.”
“That’s
right Grandma…children. I’m not a
child anymore, you know? I am thirteen, remember? Besides, I just can’t get
excited about Christmas this year.”
“No!
Don’t say that Carmen! Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. Not
just for the presents and Christmas music. Not even because of the decorated
trees or family reunions or the wonder it brings. Every year Christmas marks a
new beginning. It brings us hope for the future.” Her grandmother had walked
over to the kitchen table and sat down across from her granddaughter.
“Christmas
is for children. But children come in
all shapes and sizes…and ages.” Her grandmother added.
“Mom
said that there won’t be a lot of hope in the New Year. She said it is going to
be a while before we get caught up on things. It really hasn’t been a very good
year Grandma.” Carmen sighed, playing with the waffles on her plate. She didn’t
feel much like eating either.
“Your
mom may be right, only time will tell. But that is not the kind of hope that I
am speaking of.”
A
puzzled look came over Carmen’s face.
“The
hope, the true hope that I speak of, is the hope that came with the very first
Christmas.” Her grandmother picked up a fork and stabbed a piece of waffle from
Carmen’s plate, “Someone has to eat it.” She said smiling and plopping the
morsel in her mouth.
Carmen
knew what was coming next. Grandma could find a reason to talk about the Bible
in just about any conversation. Every Sunday since she had moved into their
house, Grandma invited the girls to come to church with her. Carmen’s Mom and
Dad didn’t attend church very often, usually just at Easter and Christmas. They
didn’t mind Grandma extending her invitation, but Carmen’s mother did tell
Grandma it was up to the children to decide to go or not. Beth went with her
grandmother every Sunday and sometimes on Wednesdays too, if she didn’t have
homework. Carmen had only gone a handful of times and she had attended the
Vacation Bible School over the summer…that had been lots of fun. But she didn’t
really like getting up early on Sundays to go and listen to someone talk about
things she didn’t really understand.
Just as she knew she would, her grandmother
began to speak—
“Do
you know the story of the first Christmas, Carmen?’ She asked.
“Yes.
I have heard it many times. You tell it every Christmas Grandma.” Carmen said
matter-of-factly.
The
tea kettle on top of the stove began to whistle its tune.
“Ah,
the water is ready,” Grandma said, “Would you like some hot chocolate? It is a
perfect morning for a nice warm treat.”
She
didn’t wait for her granddaughter to answer; walking to the cupboard she
removed two Santa mugs from the shelf and made the chocolate drink. Carmen
could see the steam rising above the ceramic Santa cap.
“Marshmallows?”
She asked.
“No
thank you.”
The
little round lady with the silver hair returned to the table and sat one hot
mug in front of Carmen.
“Now
tell me, what do you remember about the Christmas story?”
Carmen
felt irritation trying to surface. She didn’t want to be rude or irritated towards
her grandmother. All she wanted to do was to finish her breakfast and then go find
her friends outside. It had snowed enough to have an epic snowball fight—boys
verse girls!
“Grandma
I have heard that old story so many times. It’s about a baby, his parents, no
room at the inn, and about three old men bringing gifts. Blah, blah blah…”
As
soon as the third “blah” left her lips Carmen regretted it.
“I’m
sorry Grandma,” she said, “it’s just that the stories from the Bible are hard
to understand, with all the “thee’s”
and “thou’s”. I guess maybe when I am
grown up I will understand them more.”
“That
may be true Carmen. But did you know that old
story is about children?”
Carmen’s
brow crinkled with wrinkles, looking amazingly like her father deep in thought.
“I
know there is a baby…”
“Actually
there are two babies. Mary, the mother of Jesus had cousin named Elizabeth…”
“Just
like my sister!” Carmen exclaimed.
“Yes,
just like your sister. Well anyway, the angel named Gabriel appeared before
Elizabeth’s husband, a man named Zacharias. Gabriel told him that his wife,
Elizabeth, was going to have a baby, a baby boy. That baby would be called
John.”
“I
don’t remember there being a baby called John.” Carmen said.
“Well
there was. But the Bible tells us his story after he is all grown up. Gabriel
told Zacharias, “And many of the children
of Israel shall he turn to the Lord their God.” And he did! He was called
John the Baptist.”
“I
do remember reading about him.” Carmen chimed. “Were there any other children
in the Christmas story?”
“Oh
yes!” Grandma said snatching another piece of waffle from her plate. “There was
Mary.”
“Mary?
Jesus’ mother, Mary?” Carmen asked.
“The
very one.” Answered her grandmother.
“She
wasn’t a child.”
“Oh
she probably was. Historians believe she was probably just fourteen or fifteen
years old. Mary was just a little older than you Carmen.”
“That
is very young to be a mother, isn’t it Grandma?”
“Well
things were much different then, Carmen. I do know this; God chose Mary to be
the mother of Jesus, and that is all I need to know.”
“So
two babies and Mary. Were there any other children, Grandma?”
“Yes
indeed. But let’s not get there too fast.” She stood to get another cup of hot
chocolate. From the counter she spoke—
“You
remember, Carmen, Joseph and Mary had traveled to a city called Bethlehem in
order to pay to Caesar his taxes. Many families had also come to the city to be
counted in the census. Joseph and Mary were unable to find a room in which they
could spend the night.”
“So
they had to stay in a barn!” Carmen called out.”
“Yes,
a barn or a stable.” Grandma replied, returning to the table with a fresh mug
of hot chocolate.
“That
must have been awful for them Grandma.”
“You
would think so, wouldn’t you? But it was that night, in that dirty old stable,
that God chose to bring into the world a baby. A baby who would change this
world forever. So in that old stable, with the animals as witnesses, Mary gave
birth to a baby boy. And gently she laid him in the manger to keep him warm.
And she would name him Jesus.”
“We
have a nativity under the Christmas tree Grandma. It is really pretty.”
“I
know, I saw it, and it is very beautiful. It reminds us of the reason we
celebrate Christmas.”
“You
said there were more children in the story.”
“And
there were. In a field, not too far away from Bethlehem, there were shepherds
watching over their sheep. They would keep watch the whole night through to
make sure no uninvited beasts would harm the flock.”
“Were
there children there too?” Carmen asked.
“Most
of the shepherds were just young boys. From an early age they were taught by
their fathers to protect the family’s flock. And on that night, more than two
thousand years ago. The Angel of the Lord appeared before them. Oh, those young
boys were so afraid. They had never seen such a sight.”
Carmen’s
grandmother paused, sipping her chocolate, she looked out the kitchen window at
the snow falling from the gray skies, each flake dancing for just a moment on
the cold air before descending to the snow-covered ground.
“What
did they do Grandma?”
“They
listened. The angel spoke to them saying, “Fear
not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is
Christ the Lord.”
“Oh
my dearest granddaughter, can you imagine what a sight this must have been for
those young boys. In the dark of night, an angel appears and tells them that
the Christ has been born!”
“What
happened next Grandma?” Carmen asked.
“Well
suddenly the sky was filled with angels, heavenly
hosts, singing praise to God—peace on earth and goodwill toward men.
“Do you hear the bells they’re ringing?” Carmen
sang, “I know that song Grandma, we sang it in choir this year.”
“And
it was wonderful.” She said. “After the
angels were gone these shepherd boys knew they must go to Bethlehem and see the
baby who would be a King. So leaving their sheep, wasting not a moment, they
ran to Bethlehem.”
“Did
they get to see him? Did they see the baby Jesus?” Carmen was sitting on the
edge of her seat.
“Well
yes they did. So now Carmen, what have we seen so far in this old Christmas story?”
“What
do you mean Grandma?” Carmen asked.
“Carmen,
did you hear the hope?”
Carmen
shook her head, “I don’t think so.”
“Well
let’s see. Joseph and Mary had to leave their home…just like me. Only for
different reasons, but leaving home is always difficult. You see when you leave
home you leave behind those things that make memories come alive. Joseph and
Mary didn’t even know where they would stay when they arrived in Bethlehem, but
God made them a way. Just like he did for me.”
“Here,
in our home!” Carmen said.
“And
now I can make new memories! Joseph and Mary would never forget that night, I
am quite sure of that.”
“Did
Joseph lose his job like my Dad?”
“We
don’t really know about that. Joseph and Mary had to travel all the way from
Nazareth to Bethlehem by foot. That’s almost eighty miles. Now during their
journey, which probably took about seven or eight days, Joseph wouldn’t have
been working. So that young couple would have depended on God to provide for
them. Just as he did for you and your
family!”
“Wow!”
Carmen exclaimed.
“You
see even when we go through hard times, God still provides us hope. If we
believe in Him.”
“What
about the shepherd boys, Grandma? What about their hope?”
“Well
I didn’t finish the story now did I?” The shepherd boys traveled all the way to
the City of David, Bethlehem. When the saw the baby Jesus they were so amazed.”
Her
Grandma thought for a moment—looking at her grandchild.
“And when they had seen, they made known
abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.”
Carmen
asked, “What does that mean Grandma?”
“It
means, my dear child, that they traveled everywhere telling everyone the good
news—a child had been born in Bethlehem, a child which is Christ the Lord.”
Her
grandmother paused again.
“It
is only with hope…Christmas hope…that one could carry such a message. And it is
only with belief that one can have such hope!”
Grandma
stood up from the table and stretched her arms high above her head. With a
little yawn and a quiet smile, she looked out the kitchen window, over the pies
and to the old oak tree—
“Do
you believe?”
The End
