Christmas
had just begun to reveal itself in the green origami holly and red
paper Santas that shop owners were taping onto their store windows. I
grinned back at those chubby, chortling paper grandpas as my siblings
and I climbed into the car for a long-awaited Christmas shopping trip.
As Dad pulled out of the driveway, my mind was awhirl with thoughts of
what I planned to buy: the romantic perfume for Mom, the snazzy watch
for my older brother, the adorable doll for my little sister … and on my
list went. I was bursting with excitement and could hardly wait until
we’d reach the shopping mall. But we never did.
Halfway
there, we were involved in an accident. Although we were unhurt, the
young woman whose motorbike had smashed into the rear of our car had
sustained minor injuries and was hurried to a nearby hospital. Thoughts
of Christmas faded in the blur of phone calls, visits to the hospital
and police station, and paperwork that stretched from days into weeks as
my parents negotiated with the young woman and the insurance company.
Complications arose, and the legal work surrounding the accident dragged
on longer than anyone had expected. I groaned with agitation as I tore
the page off the calendar each day and wondered when we would finally be
able to put the incident behind us.
By
the time all the details had been ironed out, I felt like the accident
had devoured the best of my Christmas, leaving only a few “crumbs” to
savor before the New Year was upon me. Still, I was determined to enjoy
those crumbs to the fullest, so I eagerly joined my mother in preparing
our Christmas dinner. My father, brothers, and sisters also joined in,
and we enjoyed the fun of laughing, chatting, and singing Christmas
carols while we cooked. The only damper on my enthusiasm was that my
older sister Evelyn was feeling ill and was resting in her room, but she
assured us that she would feel better by the evening. Festivity and
excitement were in the air, smiles were on every face, and my spirits
soared. At last, it was beginning to feel like Christmas! But again,
things did not play out as I had hoped.
In
the late afternoon, we were startled to hear Evelyn vomiting in the
bathroom. We found her doubled over with excruciating pain in her lower
right abdomen. Soon, Dad was rushing her to the nearest hospital. Shock,
dismay, and fear flooded me as I watched the car lights disappear into
the darkness. Christmas excitement faded like the setting sun; Christmas
dinner was left half cooked on the stove. The joy and merriment that I
had been so eagerly anticipating had again been snatched from my grasp,
and I struggled to find a reason. Why this? I wondered. Why now? Why
her?
Mom gathered the rest of the family together and we desperately prayed, asking God to watch over Evelyn. Around midnight,
Dad phoned to say that Evelyn had undergone an emergency surgery to
remove a ruptured gangrenous cyst and was out of danger. She was safe!
In the darkened living room, we hugged one another, and the lights of
the Christmas tree sparkling through misty eyes and smiles of relief. As
I collapsed into bed, my mind was so full of concern for Evelyn and
prayers for her speedy recovery that any thoughts of my “ruined”
Christmas were swept away.
But
the next morning, a heavy cloud of disappointment and frustration again
settled over me. I had awoken early, and the first thing that caught my
groggy eyes was the bright origami holly taped to my bedroom window.
Its cheeriness nettled me, for it was a painful reminder of my dashed
hopes and plans. The anxiety and stress of the previous evening also
returned to my mind, making it impossible for me to go back to sleep. I
slipped out of bed and crept into the quiet living room, where I sat by
the window gazing at the lights in the dark streets below. Due to the
strain of the past weeks and the panic of the night before, Christmas
gifts and stockings had been forgotten. I guess I won’t get any gifts
this year, I groaned. I thought of my sister awaking in her hospital bed
and imagined the pain and shock she must be experiencing. What a
terrible Christmas this has been! I muttered gloomily as I picked up a
Christmas gift ornament that had fallen from the tree.
Yet
as I sat there turning the glittery little parcel over in my hand, new
thoughts came to me. Slowly, it dawned on me that I had indeed received
many Christmas gifts, albeit not the kind I’d been expecting. I had
gained renewed appreciation for my family, empathy for those who
experience automobile accidents, gratitude for how relatively minor our
incident had been, joy at my sister’s successful surgery … and on the
list went. I thought about how elated I’d be to see her again, and how
much more I would treasure her after her close call. I also knew that
from now on I’d be grateful each time Mom returned safely from the
market, each afternoon I stepped safely off the school bus, each evening
Dad came safely home from work. Never again would I take an “ordinary”
drive for granted.
My
heart lifted, and I began smiling as peaceful joy replaced my gloom and
sadness. I found myself praying that in the coming year I would make a
greater effort to express love and appreciation to each of my family
members, no matter what disagreements or petty clashes might come
between us. Instead of perfumes or watches or dolls, I determined that I
would strive to give them gifts of kindness, patience, care, and
understanding. I also resolved to appreciate my life more and to take
good care of my body, for the events of this Christmas had shown me that
life and health are treasures too delicate and beautiful to waste or
take for granted.
As
I watched the golden sunlight spread across the sky, I was reminded of
the first Christmas. Perhaps Mary and Joseph had high hopes and loving
plans of how to honor their firstborn child with the best accommodations
and comforts on His arrival. How Caesar’s decree must have disrupted
their plans! How discouraged they must have felt, being refused by
innkeeper after innkeeper! How their sad and weary souls must have sunk
when they saw that dirty, smelly stable! All their plans fell apart one
by one, much like my “perfect” Christmas had. Exhausted and frustrated
as they must have felt, they may not have realized that their newborn
baby would go on to save all humankind and change the course of history.
But that night, wrapped in rags and lying in a crude manger surrounded
by stinky animals, God’s best gift ever came to the world.
Many
Christmases have passed since my “ruined” Christmas, and each one has
been special in some way. But the memory of that Christmas stands out
from the rest and remains unforgettable to me, for it was a Christmas
when, wrapped in disguise of shattered hopes, misfortune, and
disappointment, I received some of the most valuable Christmas gifts I
could have asked for.-Elsa Sichrosvsky
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