Yesterday, at lunch, my
friend Cia told me how she and her brother picked up a tree to take
over to their three nieces and nephew, ranging in age from three to
They knew that the children would already be in bed by the
time they got to their sister's. They were hoping to surprise
the kids with a fully decorated, lighted Christmas tree when they
awakened the next morning.
When their sister
-- single, never-married parent of these four children -- came
to the door and saw them with tree in hand, she was incensed.
There would be no tree
in her home, she told them. The kids would be allowed to have only one
present each this year, and they, Cia and her brother, were not to
bring any more over. She had already informed the children that Santa Claus did not exist. That he was a lie. And would they
simply respect her wishes.
These are her kids, and
respecting her wishes, Cia and her brother skedaddled as quickly as
they came, grateful that the children did not witness this most
There would be no Norman Rockwell Christmas for
these kids. What is an aunt and
uncle to do?
I had no answers.
My heart broke a little
for these children. And for their mom, who may have never
experienced the wonder of Christmas. Of Christmas
lights. Of lying under its branches, entranced, mesmerized,
I suggested prayer with
In the real spirit of
Christ-mas, won't you join me in
prayer for Cia, her brother, her sister, and those children?
"Wherever two or more are gathered in my name, there I am."
"Life is a Gift."
P.S. If you would
like to share a portion of yourself with words, in response to
this journal entry, you may do it here.
only gift is a portion of thyself..."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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