Dave Farris clenched his eyes
closed as tight as he could, but he could still see that darn light. Why hadn’t
he looked around before he chose this broken-down hotel to spend the night? The
Christmas star on the top of the steeple of the church across the street hadn’t
seemed very bright from the street, but up here on the third floor it was a
beacon shining through the cheap drapes as if they weren’t there.
Christmas! Dave had given up
celebrating Christmas when he gave up going to church. And he’d done that just
as soon as he moved out of his grandparent’s home.
His parents hadn’t taken him to
church. When he was just five years old, his parents had gone skiing with some
friends. The two of them had been out in the snow late at night when they were
covered in a freak avalanche. That’s when he had gone to live with his
grandparents. And they’d been good to him—even though they made him go to
church.
He hadn’t minded it too much when
he was little. They had a lot of fun in all the activities, and even the
services weren’t too hard to sit through. But he just couldn’t believe a loving
God would take both of his parents away from him when he needed them so much.
His grandfather had even paid his
way through college. He just had to keep living with them until he graduated.
They couldn’t afford for him to go away. But that was one of the good things
about living in a college town. Had it really been ten years since he had left
them? Ten years! Back then he had been sure that in ten years he would be at
the top of his field. But things changed so fast he had trouble keeping up.
He rolled over and threw his arm
across his eyes. There. Finally he couldn’t see even a glimmer of light from
that star. He was just dozing off again when it started.
Music. Christmas music. But not
regular carolers. It sounded like angels—if he had believed in angels. Nah. It
couldn’t be. But the lilting sounds danced around his room and lodged in his
head, tugging at his awareness.
Since he was awake anyway, he
might as well check it out. When he put his bare foot on the floor, he realized
there was some kind of hard floor covering, not warm carpet, and sometime after
he had crawled under the covers, the heat had gone off. Shivering, he pulled
the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders Indian style, but
that didn’t help his cold feet. He walked to the window and stood first on one
foot and then on the other as he parted the tissue thin drapes.
According to the clock on the
front of the bank, it was almost midnight—and this was Christmas Eve. On the
snow-covered lawn of the church, there was a lot of activity. He hadn’t noticed
the weathered stable when he came in. It had been pretty dark. Now the whole
church yard was lit by what seemed to be a million lights. And the stable had
footlights flooding the interior with a warmth that encompassed the occupants
and spilled out.
There in the manger lay a real
live baby. He could see it’s legs kicking from all the way up there. As a
beautiful young woman dressed in a flowing robe leaned toward the baby, her
long dark hair obscured the baby from his sight. A man in what had to be a
biblical costume hovered over them. Shepherds were kneeling in the snow, and
angels were singing from a platform high above the stable. There were even some
animals staked out near the stable. Dave could see a couple of sheep, a donkey,
a cow. And in the shadows a camel hunkered.
The most amazing thing. People.
All kinds of people were milling around talking to the shepherds, to Mary and
Joseph. It even looked as if someone was trying to say something to one of the
angels.
It was not enough that he was
almost out of money, so he had to stay someplace cheap. But he had a whole
Bible story going on right outside his window. And it was so loud he couldn’t
sleep.
Dave had seen live nativity
scenes before, but they had been tableaux. Pretty pictures that people looked
at from afar. What were all those other people doing down there?
Without conscious thought, he
pulled on his clothes. It wouldn’t hurt to go see what was happening. After
all, he couldn’t sleep. Maybe a walk in the night air would help.
When he reached the street, he
was soon swallowed up in a milling crowd. But ignoring those around him, he
pushed toward the warmth spilling from the stable.
“Love has come ... God sent His
only Son ... Emmanuel.” Words and an unfamiliar melody flowed around him.
“God! If it were only true.”
Words, spoken in disgust, became the prayer of his empty, weary heart. As Dave
stood looking down at that baby in the manger, all the sounds faded from his
awareness, and a still small voice spoke peace to him.
It is true. The words
reverberated through his broken spirit. Dave, I love you.
As Dave fell to his knees and
began to sob, bells pealed. The angels sang, “Hallelujah!”
Then Dave became aware of another man kneeling in the snow
beside him—his strong arm lending strength to Dave. © 1996
Lena Nelson Dooley, All rights reserved.
This story is my Christmas gift to you this year.
Tell us about the most favorite Christmas gift you ever received.