A recent
local newspaper headline inspired mixed emotions. In one story picture a half
constructed house surrounded a young woman and her two children. The residence
was being built under the program entitled Operation Finally Home.
The woman
and her two preschool sons would receive this new home as a gift from the
organization in appreciation of the sacrifice her family had made. This would
be her third Christmas as a military widow, her Air Force husband, age 26,
having been killed in Afghanistan in 2011. Her recent move to this area
prompted the action from the sponsoring charity.
Around my
home tiny lights seem to be everywhere. The Christmas tree has three strands
and the pure white angel at the top carries a single torch in her hand. A
small, decorative tree next to the grandfather clock has a similar strand woven
through its limbs. Around our front door a green garland is lit by the same
style of lights welcoming guests to our door.
They all
contribute to a mood of brightness and joy, in eager anticipation of the
special day only a week away. I cannot help but believe it will take more than
several strings of lights along with green garlands and multicolored ornaments
to bring such joy into the home mentioned above. There will be other family
members present. Neighbors will come by to make sure every need is being met,
every need but one.
This young
widow is one of many individuals who will spend this Christmas not feeling
quite as merry as the rest of us. Others will be marking perhaps a fifth, a
tenth, or even more Christmases alone. Maybe they will be in their own home.
Perhaps they will be in a home for those who can no longer care for themselves.
Others will
be with a family member, but they won’t be at home. The circle of loved ones
will be gathered around a hospital bed wondering what the night will bring.
Some will
find themselves in a strange city scared with nowhere to turn. Decisions made
in a moment of confusion and pain have brought them to a Christmas Eve they
never thought they’d face.
The second
chapter of the Gospel of Luke records the events in the life of a young woman
who must have felt these same emotions. Mary went with her betrothed husband to
a small town several days travel from her home. She was already far along in
her pregnancy.
People
coming to Bethlehem to register for the new taxes packed the village. Every
room to rent for the night was taken. Joseph and Mary may have been in Bethlehem
for several days when Mary realized they would never make it back to Nazareth
in time for her to have her baby close to family.
The only
person she knew was her husband. The only place offering any privacy was a
stable. None of her family would be present to help. There would be no midwife.
Mary must have felt very alone.
A manger
filled with straw cradled the new born infant. Instead of admiring relatives,
there were simple shepherds speaking of divine messengers and strange tidings
of prophecies being fulfilled. Instead of the support a new mother should have
been able to expect, Mary had to deal with a new baby in a strange town filled
with strange folk.
A merry
Christmas is not created by the gifts one receives or the music one hears or by
all the decorations everywhere. These all help, but a merry Christmas is most
often determined by who is sitting beside you, by who is there to share in all
that Christmas means to you.
Mary had
Joseph and a tiny infant whose destiny she did not understand. That young
military widow has two young sons and other family members. No one need be,
should be alone this Christmas, but it may take one of us to remind others the
baby born so long ago is still here with us and will never leave us alone.
(Matthew 28:20)
