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 still, I found myself exhausted, unable
to 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. She
assured me there'd 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 10 minutes early, found a
spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. 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 long stopped referring to the holiday as "Christmas", I
didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment -- songs of
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, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red
sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon 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 up 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 -- totally
unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W". The audience of 1st through 6th
graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were
laughing at her, so 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.For when the last letter was held high, the
message read loud and clear: CHRIST WAS LOVE. And, I believe, He still is.
By Candy Chand PATCAN85@aol.com
Bio: Candy Chand is a wife and the mother of two, young children. Her
inspirational book, Under God’s Wings, about every day Christian miracles, is
available at bookstores nationwide and on Amazon.com.
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1580624286/o/qid=980706562/sr=8-1/ref=aps_sr_b_1_1/104-7979863-7718307
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