The Spirit of Christmas

I love Christmas . . . it’s my favourite time of the year. I love admiring my friend’s gorgeous Christmas trees that are perfectly colour co-ordinated with a flawless balance of bling and meaningfulness and which could easily grace the window of any fancy store in any city in the world. I love the sound of Christmas carols in shopping centres, on the car radio and drifting from people’s houses – suddenly it is ok to celebrate the greatest gift of all, our Saviour Jesus Christ. The Christmas get-togethers hum merrily with the sound of good friends chatting, laughing and sharing  . . . the stress and tensions of the year lift as we stop and connect with neighbours, friends and family. There are Christmas cards, mistletoe and tinsel; turkeys, mince pies and fruit puddings; candy canes, flickering lights and my personal favourite, the chocolates with magic popping dust which explodes like fireworks in your mouth (and if you stick your tongue out, you can even share the joyful noise with those around you). Ah, yes, Christmas-time is fun, but my favourite part of Christmas isn’t the tree or food or carols or gifts.

My favourite part of Christmas is finding the perfect way to share the Saviour’s love with someone who may not be expecting it. My favourite part of Christmas is the overwhelming drive that develops within me to stop and really pay attention to the people around me . . . to identify an unmet need, an unspoken heart’s desire, an unattainable wish . . . and then to find a way to meet it as best as I can. My favourite part of Christmas is to do something for someone else that they may not be able to do for themselves.  To do something for someone that leaves them feeling noticed, cared for, considered and loved . . . to do something for someone else that allows them to feel the love that the Saviour has for them. I remember a year when someone did that for me . . .

I was a relatively new member of the Church and my husband and I had moved overseas to study. It was the first time that I was away from my country, my home and my family. I was missing home – really, really missing home. I didn’t know many people, was freezing cold in the unfamiliar snowy weather and, well, to be honest, I was miserable. I couldn’t work because of visa restrictions and we didn’t have much money – we kept the central heating off to save on costs and would sleep in our freezing basement apartment wearing two jumpers over our PJ’s, beanies on our heads, a couple of pairs of socks and then still pile every blanket that we owned onto our bed. That’s not a good picture for someone who finds the balmy Brisbane winters bitterly cold.

Anyway, Christmas was approaching and things were lean – very lean – and I missed home more than I could say. Then one Sunday after church, a young couple in their early twenties that we had met a couple of times at church approached us with a Christmas card in an envelope. Both husband and wife were born with serious physical disabilities which made walking and speaking difficult. In addition to these lifelong challenges, this wonderful young woman had recently suffered a stroke and struggled with paralysis on one side of her body. Despite these physical challenges, this couple were vibrant, friendly and faithfully lived so as to include the Saviour in every aspect of their lives. They had been blessed with a gorgeous son a few months earlier and were amazing at caring for this young baby despite their many physical challenges. The young father was studying at University and also working to provide for the family, while his wife stayed home to care for their young son. There they stood, a young student family, living on a shoestring budget and dealing with extra physical challenges that made even the simplest of tasks gruelling and time-consuming. We hadn't spent a lot of time with this family and so we were surprised at what happened next.

Handing over the simple Christmas card, this kind young mother’s eyes twinkled as she humbly asked us to accept a small gift from her family. She explained that she had realised how much I had missed my home, my family, my mother and grandmother, and that enclosed in the card was $20 that she hoped we would use to phone home for Christmas. She apologised that she could not give more and stopping our protests, she hugged us and insisted that the gift of knowing that we had spoken to our families was a blessing for her family. Words cannot express the gratitude that I felt . . . in this strange, foreign country, far from the comforts of home, in cold that seemed to freeze my heart, someone had noticed me, cared for me, shown love to me . . . someone that I didn’t know very well had noticed a need and decided to do something to help . . . their kindness allowed my heart to thaw and reminded me of the Saviour’s ongoing care and love for me. I will never forget this young couple and their thoughtful kindness that cold Christmas so many years ago. Although we have lost touch, I remember their family in my prayers and feel eternally connected to them through their kind act of charity.

Yes, Christmas is a great time of the year – so much yummy food, family fun, joyful carols and sparkling wonder. But my favourite part of Christmas is not all the stuff. My favourite part of Christmas is the overwhelming drive that I feel each year to slow down and to really notice those around me. My favouite part of Christmas is the increased charity in my heart as I search for the perfect way to do something unexpected to meet someone's unmet need. My favourite part of Christmas is the opportunity that I have to do something to remind someone that they are important, that someone noticed them and in so doing, to let them feel the soul warming love that the Saviour has for each of us every day. Yes, Christmas is my favourite time of the year.