Once upon a time in a land far, far away but not so long ago, there lived a little boy. His mom, dad, five sisters and brothers and he shared a cramped one story house with a kitchen and a couple of bedrooms. But the tight quarters weren’t the things bothering him right now. Christmas was only a few days away and it was going to be a sad one for many reasons.
The idea of a Christmas without presents because his family was too poor to afford them was the least of his worries. While the little boy didn’t understand exactly what had happened, he knew that many people fought against his country’s government for taking everything away from them. Of course, the government fought back and won, hurting many people. His 23-year-old brother was one of the lucky ones who was able to escape to America. Though he was far away, his family knew he was safe and that was comforting, but his mom and dad were still very sad.
The little boy kept busy with his chores knowing that in this small way he could help his parents and make them happy. One day, as he was about to sweep the floor, he opened the closet to look for the broom. What he found wasn’t quite what he had in mind. He found the broom all right, but it was missing its handle. He swept the floor with the bottom bundle of straw while his thoughts wandered to his friends.
A lot changed this year and while his own family struggled to put food on the table, at least his mother was always able to stretch vegetables and soup into a dinner for all of them. But even that wasn’t enough. Sometimes his stomach would hurt at school. At nine, he was growing up fast and he was always hungry. He reminded himself that he was lucky to have food. Some of his friends went to school without breakfast and their moms couldn’t afford to send them anything for lunch. The little boy wondered if they even had dinner some nights. He would have shared his own lunch with the others but one small slice of bread smeared with lard was barely enough for him.
As he sauntered home from school the next day, Christmas danced in his every thought. He was too old to believe that the Christ Child* would bring any presents for him anymore. The little boy wished he was younger—a time when he wasn’t aware of the world around him and life was less complicated. There wouldn’t be a Christmas this year. Depressed and lacking any holiday cheer, his dad greeted him at the edge of their front yard. He was cutting branches off of the beautiful and enormous evergreen tree gracing the corner of their postage-stamp sized property. The little boy opened his mouth to say Hi, but just then the afternoon train rumbled past, shaking everything around them and drowning out his words. He hung his head and dragged his feet inside.
Plopping down at the kitchen table and hanging his head in his hands, he watched in silence as his mother cut square pieces of aluminum foil and piled them neatly beside her. He was too upset to even bother asking what it was. She kissed him on the head and told him everything would be ok, but the little boy didn’t believe it. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.
After dinner, the little boy sat beside a wood-burning stove to keep warm. His two teenage sisters were arguing about something stupid nearby while his eldest (and favorite) sister sat next to him and helped him with his schoolwork. Their dad sat silently in the corner of the small room, oblivious to his children, and kept busy by boring holes into a long stick. The little boy shook his head at his weird family and focused on his work as his favorite sister swept his hair from his eyes.
The next day, Christmas Eve had arrived. The little boy wanted to be excited but wasn’t. He walked home from school slowly, kicking pebbles along the dirt path. He needed to cheer up for his mom’s sake. She was having a difficult Christmas as it was. He didn’t want to upset her even more.
As his feet managed to find the front yard, he looked up at their miniscule, old house, and the most wonderful sight met his gaze. He blinked twice because he couldn’t believe it was real. Was he dreaming? Did he wander into someone else’s yard by mistake?
In the open front window of his home, stood a little Christmas tree. The holes his father had carved into the broom handle held the branches he trimmed from the
evergreen the day before. On each little branch, tiny home-made candies wrapped in his mother’s silver foil dangled temptingly. The little boy found himself in holiday heaven. The mood in the house was cheerful as the family rushed around busily preparing for Christmas. As the cold moonlight pushed the sun to sleep, the little boy walked to the front window to close it for the night. He glanced at the tree and stared at it horrified. He shouted for his parents.
As his family rushed into the room, the joy of the day was washed away by sudden anger. All of the candies were gone! The only presents they had to share this year and they were gone! He slammed the front window shut and yelled at his mom for leaving the window open while she was baking.
“Son,” his father intervened, his tone stern yet calm, “Perhaps someone needed the candy more than us.”
“Or maybe they’re just selfish thieves,” the little boy blurted. “We need them as much as anyone else! We have nothing!”
Placing an arm around his son, his father turned him around to face the family. “We have each other and that’s all we truly need.”
The son was still mad but he didn’t bother arguing anymore. At least they still had the Christmas tree.
As the little boy grew up, his father’s advice grew in meaning. He found out that his father had seen the thieves and that they were the little boy’s friends. His father let them take the candies because he knew that the other boys wouldn’t even have a Christmas tree that year. One of the boys didn’t even have a dad. More importantly, at the time, no one knew that this would be the last Christmas with the little boy’s favorite sister who passed away unexpectedly the following spring. From that moment on, the little boy understood his father’s wisdom.
Possessions are nothing more than things that come and go easily. Christmas isn’t defined by presents but by those we hold dear. Our time with each other is more precious and priceless than any gift or decoration.
Christmas lies in what God has given us—his only son, who taught us to love one another.
Wishing each of you peace, health, and happiness during the holiday season and in the New Year!
* In eastern Europe Santa Claus fills children’s shoes with treats on St. Nicholas Day, December 6th. On Christmas, the Christ Child brings presents for good little girls and boys to celebrate his birthday.
Picture: My family’s very own Charlie Brown Christmas tree serves as a reminder about the true meaning of Christmas.
