Tuesday November 26th, 2002, 6415 years after the fall of man.
Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I
had cut back on nonessential obligations - endless card writing, endless
baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself
exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of 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 been memorizing songs for his school's
"Winter Pageant". I didn't have the heart to tell to tell him I'd be
working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment I
spoke with his teacher. She assured me there'd 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
So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found
a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. 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 down
cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform
their song. Because the public school system had long stopped referring to
the holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun,
commercial entertainment - songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and
So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken
aback by this bold title. Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his
classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon
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 up his portion had presented the
complete message, "Christmas Love."
The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small,
quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down
-totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W". The audience of 1st
through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no
idea they were laughing at her, so 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.
For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear:
And, I believe, He still is.
"Christmas Love is a true story written by author Candy Chand. Her story has circled the internet for years, often under different titles, and sometimes as "author unknown." now that you have read the story here, why not get the gift book version? Christmas Love is now available in a small, hard-back, one-story gift book at stores nationwide and on Amazon. You can email the writer at PatCan85 at hotmail.com .
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