Last year was an un-Christmassy Christmas for me. With neither of our kids coming home, decorations were minimal, but they included framed pictures of Christmases past.
I looked at those old photos wistfully. In my memory, Christmas was always as Hallmark-perfect as those carefully framed pictures. Or, was it?
I began to think of other un-Christmassy Christmases. The ones where we didn't take a lot of pictures: The time my six-week-old had meningitis, and I spent Christmas in the hospital with her. Our first Christmas without one of our kids when my older daughter couldn't get home. The Christmas a few weeks after our family unexpectedly lost a dear sister-in-law.
We were sad during those holidays, but there were also blessings. In many ways, they were more Christmassy than the Hallmark photos of other Christmases.
I shared my thought with a friend who responded, “But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart. (Luke 2:19)”
And, that brought to mind another very un-Christmassy Christmas: The first Christmas. Mary's first Christmas, riding a donkey while pregnant, and going into labor in a loud, crowded city far from home.
As she gave birth in a barn, I imagine Mary thought back to that peaceful moment 9 months previously, when she had told God's messenger, "May it be done unto me according to your word."
I can see her in that drafty barn, muttering as each contraction built.
"You shall bear a son and he will be great, he said," she must have groaned through clenched teeth.
"The Son of the Most High..."
"God will give him David's throne..."
"He will reign over the house of Jacob..."
"His kingdom will have no end, he said...”
A cow would moo, an ass would bay, and another contraction would come. "Yeah, right."
But, then, she'd gaze into her newborn's eyes, count his fingers and toes, and, in that moment, she would know the Angel Gabriel was right. She had given birth to the Love, Joy and Hope that has become our Christmas.
Christmas is love. In troubling times, love is my anchor. Christmas magnifies the love of family and friends.
Christmas is joy. Sadness does not preclude joy. My family has taught me that tales of happy times are the antidote to grief.
Christmas is hope. Un-Christmassy Christmases have always been followed by Hallmark Christmases. Tears have mingled with laughter, and laughter has always prevailed.
This year, my husband and I will have a quiet Christmas. We'll visit family and friends, attend Christmas Vigil Mass, talk to our kids hundreds of miles away. And, we'll enjoy some down time, just the two of us. It will be a very special Christmas--as are all Christmases.