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Show Page 2 Signpost Supplement Spring 1976 The Night I Found Christmas Cont. from Page 1 special one for the children in spite of our decision to limit the spending. I hated to admit it, but until this very momenH had felt absolutely nothing of the Christmas spirit. Reminiscence touched me briefly like a flashback of something familiar I couldn't bring into focus. I probed my memory but the essence of magic was lost again. I tried very hard to remember whatever had once made Christmas an enchanting time of year. I lingered near the window, savoring the elusive something that had stirred the evanescent glimpses in my memory of Christmases gone by without remembering anything in particular. My three boys crowded around me. Their faces were aglow as they gazed out at the colored lights in the snow. Strange, how differently a child can appear to an adult, depending upon one's outlook. At that moment my boys were irresistably lovable. Briefly I cupped Johnny's boyish face in my hands and saw him as a potential some-day man, full of goodness like his father, but different. I put a hand on Brad's slim shoulder. He was my freckled-faced Brad with his barrage of creative ideas and perfect faith in his ability to create. Matthew caught the spirit and hugged my legs energetically, and gratitude swept over me as I recalled how nearly we had come to losing him once, and how this little boy had fought to live that first year of his life. How could I ever forget all the tears and prayers as we pled for his life, even that he might stay with us and be ours for just a few years? "Hey Mom, let's read a story," suggested Johnny. "All right ..." I bargained, "if you'll be in your pajamas within five minutes." I gathered up Matthew and carried him as the other boys hurried to their room. We paused in the livingroom to turn on the Christmas tree lights, and they flooded the room with the soft glow of changing colors. I went to help Matthew into his pajamas. Matthew sat on my lap holding the book, and Johnny and Brad sat on either side. It had been a long time since I had relaxed with the children this way, and it felt good. Now I wished Brian was home. A car passed by outside but it continued slowly along the snow-packed street. The boys were impatient to hear the familiar Christmas story as they studied each picture. I remembered some things from my in-depth studies of Luke and Matthew, and without reading I began telling the boys about each picture. "This is where the wicked King Herod sent out a decree that all people should be taxed," I explained, "so Joseph took his young wife Mary and they traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem. That was a distance of about sixty or seventy miles, like going to see Grandma Nielson." Johnny commented, "Boy, I'd sure hate to walk all the way to Grandma Nielson's!" "Me too," Brad agreed, and was echoed by Matthew. "Most of the way Mary rode on the donkey and Joseph led him, like this " I indicated the picture. "When they arrived at Bethlehem, there were so many people ahead of them that the inn was full. They were very tired. "Finally the Innkeeper told them to go to the stable where the animals were kept. They were glad to find a place to rest." Brad turned the page and I began reading the words, 'And so it was that, while they were there the days were accomplished that Mary should be delivered. 'And she brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.' I noted the artist's conception of the nativity scene, and even noticed the expressions, or lack of them, on the painted faces. Truly, if I were an artist I would portray this greatest event in history as a photograph might portray it; never with mere expressionless figures stationed about the stable. I could imagine the rapture of the young first-time mother as she held close her newborn infant in a strange place many miles from home, smiling through her pain and weakness, perhaps with her hair mussed and her face smudged and encircled with an aura of heavenly light. Brad turned the page and I continued, 'At the same time there were wise men in the East Who had studied all the wisdom of the world, and they knew the prediction that when the Christ child was born a great new star would appear in the heavens. So when the star appeared they knew that the Christ child had been born and they traveled far, far, from the East. And lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them till it came and stood over where the young child was.' Johnny added for Brad's benefit, "That's the real story of Christmas Brad, even more important than Santa Clause." The boys looked for a long time at the pictures, discussing the details of each one. They especially like a double-page inside-front-cover picture of the manger-scene with all the right characters in place. High above the stable at the top of the page shone the special star, brighter than all the other stars. The wise men in rich attire on the faraway plains of Judea were portrayed with their camels. The picture had been created with painstaking detail, making the Christmas story meaningful for Johnny and Brad. Matthew's blonde head slipped sideways against my arm and he slept. Johnny said thoughtfully, "I'm glad we've got a star on top of our Christmas tree Mom. It reminds me of the real star when the Baby Jesus was born." "Yeah," agreed Brad. "The star helped the wise men to find the Baby Jesus." I smiled at them and closed the book, and struggled to my feet with Matthew. "Bedtime now." I carried Matthew to his bed and tucked him in, brushing back a shock of blonde hair and kissing his clean brow. He sighed contentedly in his sleep and turned to one side. 'Precious, precious Matthew,' I thought uncontrollably. As I turned to pass Lisa's crib I stopped. She was lying on her stomach with her knees tucked underneath and her thumb in her mouth. Only someone who has children understands how one's heart can leap with pride in particular instances, and I thanked God for this perfect baby girl. Johnny and Brad stayed in the soft glow of the Christmas tree where colored lights twinkled on and off. I remained silent until they noticed me, then firmly I hustled them off to bed. After prayers and good-night kisses and hugs I turned out the bedroom light and returned to the livingroom, going impulsively to the window. 'If Brian were only home,' I thought apprehensively, 'the feeling would be complete.' I looked out at the lighted houses nestled in snowdrifts up and down our street, and at the occasional cars that crept cautiously by. I could hear muffled talking in Johnny's and Brad's bedroom. "Boys!" I was emphatic. "Not another sound now!" They became quiet. I put on a nightie and robe and brushed my hair. Brian's burrito in the oven was beginning to smell delicious. I couldn't help thinking of my unfinished projects and unwrapped presents and the fact that I could use this time to sew for the children, but I stubbornly took the old Bible from the shelf and curled up near the lamp where the boy's book still lay open to the large picture. I was already in the mood, and I became totally engrossed as I read from the Book of Luke and understood. Some time later I detected a scuffle in the boy's bedroom and went to investigate, pausing in the doorway. There stood both boys on Johnny's bed with their heads behind the closed drapes, looking out the window. I advanced. "What on earth?" "Shush, Mom," prompted Johnny excitedly, coming from behind the drapes. "It's the star!" interrupted Brad. "Yeah," added Johnny in a boyish half-whisper, returning to the window. Brad said, "Come and look, Mama!" I parted the drapes and looked out. A few scattered homes, lighted in the tradition of Christmas, nestled in the deep snow along the east side of town. There, above the frozen hills beyond I saw a great new star in the heavens. Unbelievingly I stared. It stood low in the night sky, directly above an area of farm buildings, and it glistened and shone far brighter than the other stars. I caught my breath as my intellect was swept back across the centuries.'It happened just like this,' I though incredulously. For a second I was in Bethlehem experiencing the brilliant star, realizing it was indeed a sign of the Savior's coming to the world. A thrill went through me as its reality was impressed upon me, and I imagined the lowly stable out there somewhere, warmed by the breath of oxen and sheep, where the earth-shaking event was happening. I glanced down at the boys whose wonder-filled faces were pressed close to the window. To them the brilliant star needed no explanation. I looked back at the strange star. It just couldn't be; it happened once, two-thousand years ago on the other side of the world. It just couldn't be. Yet there it shone like a sign in the heavens. I half-expected to see multitudes of heavenly host singing praises to the most high and declaring peace on Earth. I unlocked the window and opened it a crack, letting the cold air refresh us. Christmas music could be heard from a loudspeaker across town; solemn bell ringing and a choir singing "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." My goose bumps were not from the cold as I heard the strain "Then pealed the bells more loud and deep; God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;" Suddenly, while we stood at the window, Brian came noisily into the kitchen and took off his coat. "Ho ho ho," he laughed aloud, imitating Santa Clause. "Anybody home at this house? Ho ho ho." He was met in the hall by an avalanche of two boys and their mother. "Daddy, Daddy!" cried both boys excitedly, "Come see the Christmas star! Come in our bedroom and look out the window!" Brian looked at me questioningly and I nodded. He followed the boys to their bedroom. After studying the strange light for a few minutes, Brian tucked the boys into bed and came out where I waited in the hall. He put his arms exhuberantly around me and grinned mischievously, "They turned on the TV booster station up there on the mountain tonight. But I guess it's all right if the boys want to call it their Christmas star." Truly relieved, I thought for a minute. "Well we can tell them about it tomorrow." I smiled within, realizing that I had shared the Christmas spirit in its truest sense with Johnny and Brad. Silently I thought, 'Thank you, Lord, for a tangible illustration of an intangible spark.' I would find a way-to share it -with Brian. First Place Poetry ji steeplechase 5 by Christopher Hkka i the flower on the bank sighs as she views 5 the wandering brook embarking on another adventure c the brook bids her join him, but the flower cannot for her roots are deep, her blossoming s tilled i yet her heart follows and she sighs ? the moon her shelter 5 the sun her warmth I the rain tears of hopelessness x and her future her past f time indefinite until chosen, she ... as a gift of love J and the brook ever onward flows x seeking J searching 5 dreaming i the willow bows as he passes i the pine waves j the oak nods he never pauses in his travels x he roves alone never taking, never giving J until his quests run out in a dry dustbowl of despair v where he meets the flower wilted, cast away c dead of loneliness in a vase jj on a table in a house in a city i away from her moon away from her sun c a way from her rain s away 5 alone x together |