 
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 ten
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.
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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"
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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:
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"CHRISTWAS LOVE" And, I believe, He
still is.
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