Is Christmas the season of giving or is it a time of getting? While everyone but the most hardened grinches usually insist that giving is more important, most of us do need something in return. And it’s not necessarily anything with a hefty price tag.
I think what matters most is simply showing each other that we have value. There’s often a gap between what we attempt and what we can actually pull off, but hope springs eternal. I’m the sort of person who needs optimism, so I keep trying.
Recently, I’ve joined the music group at our church. Part of that entails planning for a children’s choir at the Christmas Eve mass, and there’s always a certain amount of head-scratching to nail down details. When can we schedule practice so everyone can make it? Do we have enough choir robes to garb all the heavenly host? And where were the angel wings stashed the last time the storeroom got cleaned out?
When all that’s added to the normal holiday argy-bargy, it can be tempting to chuck the whole idea, but then I remember what the Christmas story has meant to me.
As a child, I was fairly devout. Kind, gentle Lutherans taught me about Jesus, and they were thoughtful people who believed in taking children’s religious education seriously. My many questions always received real answers, even to the point of Pastor Steen scheduling a special appointment to speak with me, just like I was an adult. I read my entire children’s Bible, and I liked most of the tales, but the nativity story held a special place in my heart. Perhaps it was because Jesus came to earth as a baby, and maybe it had something to do with the animals in the manger (I was always an animal lover). And I’m sure the stack of gifts slowly accumulating under the tree added a certain something to the anticipation as well.
I’d spend hours imagining what it must have been like, with the star shining brightly overhead, and the terrifying realization that God’s own son was about to be born without a roof to shelter him. It must have meant so much to be given even the reprieve of a place in a stable, although adults couldn’t seem to decide if it was made out of wood or if it was in a cave. I hoped it was wooden because stone always seemed so cold in the winter, and I’d never seen a creche with a fireplace.
The music captured my imagination, too. Lutherans sang a lot—all the verses to every song—but I’d still go home and play carols for hours afterward on our record player. I still remember the thrill of being able to belt out every stanza of Joy to the World without looking at the words. And I practiced Silent Night until I could sing it by heart even in German.
And then the great news came. All the kids at Ascension Lutheran were stepping up to the big stage—we were going to be performing at church during the Christmas Eve service. I was beyond excited.
“Can I be Mary?” I asked my mother, who replied that the coveted role was going to Pastor Steen’s daughter, Sari.
My immediate reaction was to think that this was hardly fair. Sure, Sari had been recently adopted. She’d traveled all the way from Korea, and she was shy and spoke little English. And okay, we should make her feel welcome. And not even having any parents—that must have been tough. But did all that mean she should get to play Mary? Well, actually, when I looked at it that way, it probably did.
I hoped she really enjoyed it, though. It was still hard not to feel wistful about it.
However, I threw myself into my lesser role as one of the heavenly host. After all, it could’ve been worse. Some of the boys were stuck wearing costumes that looked suspiciously like old bathrobes. We angels got to wear flowing white gowns with golden wings and actual halos. I had no idea who thought of sticking a silly star on the top, but I got past that because we were also going to sing.
It turned out my one foreign language skill would not be required—Silent Night would be sung in English. The days crept past, dragging their feet without mercy. When, oh when, would the Advent calendar finally run down? I played my records over and over, and it was still taking forever to get to Christmas.
But of course, the great evening finally came. Patient mothers took nervous angels on multiple trips to the bathroom and helped us smooth out our robes afterward. Fidgety shepherds were quelled with stern looks from the pastor. Sari took her place next to the manger and beamed at everyone. I think she was the most joyous Mary I’ve ever seen, including all the movie versions.
Pastor Steen read us the nativity story from Luke, and then our big moment finally came. The whole cast—all eleven of us—broke into Silent Night. We sang along with the guitar and hit every note, even the boys who’d hardly practiced, and the whole congregation joined in for the second and third verses.
And as our voices merged together, it didn’t matter that our baby in the manger was only a doll—Jesus was more real to me than he’d ever been before. Peace on earth didn’t just seem possible; it felt inevitable. And every person in that church received that great gift and gave it back to everyone else.
What I’d like most is for all of you to live a moment like that this Christmas. And may you also find a way to pass it on to someone else, so the gift never stops.
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Avid writer and reader of Faerie tales and noblebright fantasy.
Cathleen Townsend 
This brought me to tears as memories came rushing in. Thanks so much for sharing. How wonderful you still have the picture. The joy on Mary´s face is incredible. Have a great Christmas!
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Thanks, Darlene. And I agree–Sari looked transcendently happy. It’s one of the times I was really glad I listened to that still, small voice. I would’ve felt awful if I’d tried to take that experience from her. Now I can look back on it with joy. I try to remember the lessons from moments like this, although of course it’s always with limited success.
And a merry Christmas to you as well. : )
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Something different but certainly timely! 🙂 This did bring back memories, and I enjoyed how your story was a reminder of the the ultimate Christmas story (except it’s so much more). The part about Sari getting to play the role of Mary was absolutely precious … someone who’d lost so much portraying someone who gave her all was so fitting. The mention of wondering where the angel wings were stashed after the last time the storage room was cleaned made me crack a grin, so naturally when you described the wings you wore as a child, I wondered if anybody had to search for them. Beautifully done!
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Thanks. It would be nice to think that somewhere there’s an elderly Lutheran woman helping a new generation dig out the angel wings for this year’s pageant. Sadly, men reorganized our Christmas stash, so more searching will be required. Glad you liked the story–I’ve felt a need lately to tell a few memoirs. : )
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Those are beautiful memories. We went to church but I don’t remember much about it other than that we had to. Still, I am devout. It’s funny how God’s hand guides us.
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It is, isn’t it? And don’t be misled–I only said I was fairly devout. There were times when Sunday school teachers had to give me stern looks because I was too chatty or not paying attention. But Christmas seems to bring out our best efforts. It’s one of the things I like most about this time of year. : )
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Hi Cathleen, this is a delightful Christmas story. I always led the choir when I was a young girl, I had a very strong voice. I did get to play Mary one year and I was rather overcome. I would have preferred to be an angel. I’ve never liked being the centre of attention like that.
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Hmm…I never thought of it that way. This was the only pageant I was ever in, but I can see that playing Mary would add some extra pressure. It’s fun to know that you liked to sing as a child, too. : )
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What a lovely Christmas post! Thanks for sharing your childhood experiences…and I could really relate too. There is always at least one moment in the Christmas season when the message really hits home, and that’s such a meaningful experience that I really do wish everyone could share it.
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Thanks, Ann. I love those moments when we rediscover the truth of the meaning of Christmas. May you have many of them this year. : )
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A lovely remembrance, Cathleen. Thank you!
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Thanks, Jennie. I’m glad you enjoyed it. : )
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You are welcome!
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You seem to have been wise beyond your years when you were a kid. This post warmed my heart. It was such a wonderful treat. The buildup and excitement were palpable.
I also enjoyed the lesson – don’t give up on something just because it requires work. It might be worth so much more, even if not to you directly.
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Hmm…I don’t know that I was particularly wise, but I did have good teachers. I suppose I can take credit for listening to them.
I’m glad you liked the story. Getting involved in my church’s pageant this year brought it to mind : )
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[…] “Christmas Present” by Cathleen Townsend […]
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[…] I did hesitate when deciding to pick up the towel. And, to be transparent – I still do. Cathleen and I had a discussion about the number of posts vs. their quality. We share a preference for the […]
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At its most fundamental, a gift is an attempt to add value to the life of someone important to us. So, for me, Christmas is an opportunity to think more deeply about how I can contribute something of value to the lives of my loved ones… which seldom requires buying something from a retail store.
Hope you had a Merry Christmas, Cathleen. Thanks for sharing your Christmas story!
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Thanks, Sean. I caught Covid right after the Christmas concert on the 20th, so that bit was less-than-optimal. But I’m getting better now, and the time off didn’t actually cost me anything other than being sick, so that part’s good.
The Christmas concert was awesome this year. Lots of people came and said they truly enjoyed it. And there’s something special about singing together. Hope your Christmas went well. And may 2022 be a happier year than 2021! : )
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