(worth reading... not my own Email I've got from email ministry)
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 I still found myself exhausted, unable to fully 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 who assured
me there would 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 and found a seat in the
cafeteria. 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 stopped referring to the holiday as
"Christmas" I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial
entertainment: songs about 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, who were adorned in fuzzy
mittens and red sweaters, with bright stocking caps on their heads. Those in
the front row, center stage, held up large letters, one by one, to spell out
the title of the song. 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 his portion had presented the complete message,
The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly we noticed her: a small,
quiet girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down. She was
unaware that reversed, her letter "M" appeared as a "W."
The audience of first- through sixth-graders snickered at this little one's
mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, and she stood tall,
proudly holding her "W."
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.
When the last letter was held high, the message read clear:
"CHRISTWAS LOVE" ("CHRIST WAS LOVE")
And I believe He still is.