For Me?

I was enjoying participating in the gift exchange this morning, helping dispose of wrapping paper and passing out gifts. This was a wonderful Christmas morning, and the gifts to my husband and me were sweet and thoughtful. Gifts of fragrance, music, chocolates, a good read, writing material and warm accessories made a nice little stack beside our seats. It was all about the kids this morning, as they were showered with piles of treasures. The others marveled over electronics and their accessories, spontaneously breaking into guffaws over unexpected surprises.

Greg unwrapped a candy bar and slapped his knee in delight. I wondered what was so intriguing, and he showed me the bas relief outline of a figure imbedded in chocolate sent by his brother, saying it was Hans Solo from Star Wars buried in carbonite. Then he looked pleased, if a little puzzled, when he tore the paper off a utility extension cord from his daughter. He laughed when I quipped that it was an extension of her love to him.

Finally the last present was opened, and I went to the kitchen to help with breakfast, reminding myself that I had already had a nice Christmas over the past several days (12 days of Christmas, my daughter said): The installation of a new computer program, a new phone, a gigantic Scrabble game, a new outfit, new boots, a salon “do”, a lovely hooded vest in the mail, and perfume from my husband. So why did I feel a little incomplete?

A little later my granddaughter burst into the kitchen. “Mimi! I forgot to give you this present! It was hidden under the trash!” She handed me a bulky package and I opened it to find a wonderful Christmas throw! Its fleecy red surface was bright with the scrolled white letters of Peace, Love, Joy and Hope, and it was Sherpa-lined with the softest pile. I cuddled into it and knew I had experienced Christmas! (I impulsively added grated cheese to the scrambled eggs and got tons of compliments on being such a good cook!)

Later in a phone conversation, my son, Jamie, related that he had bought a Santa suit and dressed as Santa for a sermon illustration on joy this morning, observing that many artists’ renderings of Jesus reflect a sorrowful expression, when Jesus was actually full of joy. His audience loved the message, and he took the suit home with him. He later slipped out to his van, put the suit on and rang his doorbell. He saw his five-year-old daughter as she came toward the door, then glimpsing him through the glass, she screamed and ran to get away. (The two-year-old gave him a hug, however.)

Christmas is filled with delight, surprise and the unexpected. Jesus birth was unexpected by most in His day. But as Mary wrapped Him in the softest available material and felt the peace, joy, love and hope of motherhood, whether she knew it or not, in her heart she experienced Christmas.