Moments Like These

So much stress and hubbub usually surrounds this time of year, and I don’t want to be too cliché here with the “true meaning of Christmas” line, but there is a little I’d like to reflect on that I hope can mean something to someone.

Last week I went caroling with some friends.  We gathered together, practiced our songs (the typical holiday hymns), secured our hats, gloves, boots, and coats, and headed out into the chilly night air to spread some holiday warmth.  The overcast sky like a blanket held the earth.  Snowflakes fell silently, gathering in the folds of my jacket, and frosting the trees with a fresh layer of snow to transform the neighborhood into a winter wonderland.  Mountains of snow lined the paved driveways, and the streetlight on the corner cast an orange glow over the surrounding trees, fading into darkness beyond.

The first couple houses we stopped at greeted us graciously as we sung “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” and “What Child is This.”  Christmas smiles broke into grins on the faces of neighborhood children, and parents smiled kindly as our mediocre chorus but outstanding camaraderie filled the night.  With high spirits we continued around the block and arrived at a house while singing “Away in a Manger.”  The owner came to the door, chuckled a little, and then slowly shut the door and walked away.  We patiently finished the song, and then retreated humbly. 

The next house we approached with a little more caution.  I knocked on the door, and watched as an elderly man struggled to rise out of a chair to answer.  He slowly made his way to the front of the house, where we, perched on the porch steps, began “Silent Night.”  The man turned away…

Silent night! Holy night!

All is calm, all is bright.

Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child

Holy infant so tender and mild,

Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace.

…but only to open a side door and call to someone else.  A woman came.  Crawling on her hands and knees, through the door that he held open.  My voice wavered as I witnessed her struggling to make it down the hall towards the door we stood outside of, shivering in the cold.  She crawled until her head bumped against the glass door that separated her from us…

Silent night! Holy night!

Shepherds quake at the sight.

Glories stream from heaven afar,

Heavenly hosts sing Hallelujah,

Christ the Savior is born,

Christ the Savior is born!

…I reached forward to open the door, and held it while she sat back and looked up at us with tears in her eyes.  My voice caught, and I mouthed the words but no melody came from my lips.  She bowed before us crying, and then sat with her hands over her heart as we sang the final verse…

Silent night! Holy night!

Son of God love's pure light.

Radiant beams from Thy holy face,

With the dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus, Lord at Thy birth,

Jesus, Lord at Thy birth.

I wished them a Merry Christmas, and backed away into the frigid night in awe.  It’s moments like these that make Christmas special.  It’s moments like these, finding the face of God in the faces around you, that make God’s grace real.