As we prepare for coming of the Christ-child, I want
to share with you a favorite story of mine, written by a dear friend of mine.
Carol Kehlmeier, is a long-time member of St Paul Lutheran Church in
Westerville, Ohio (my previous congregation). She is the mother of four boys,
and is a great writer. The setting for this story is the church in
Westerville. It is called “The Christmas
Mix-Up.” You will soon learn why.
Outside the little white country church, the
feathery snow was falling gently, creating a picturesque scene in the bright
moonlight. Inside, we sat in the warmth of the glowing candles and glittering
Christmas tree, anticipating the entrance of the children. It was the annual
children’s Christmas program. I had been rehearsing our four little boys daily
with the lines they were to say that night. We had gone over their speeches
until even the youngest knew what he was to say and when he was to say it.
“I hope they remember everything,” I whispered
anxiously to Husband. The lights dimmed and the beautiful old stained-glass
windows created a cozy, yet reverent setting in the candlelight. I had done
well, I thought proudly. As a reward for their diligent work, each night I
served them cookies and cocoa at bedtime along with reading, “’Twas The Night
Before Christmas.”
The organ began playing, “It Came Upon a Midnight
Clear,” the tiny voices joining in confidently. The rustling of children
sounded in the back of the church. They began their march to the chancel, then
were directed into neat rows by their adult leader. I took a deep breath and
waited for the children to begin to tell the story of the birth of the Christ
Child.
“And there were in the same country, shepherds
abiding in the fields,” a sixth-grader called out. Children dressed in
bathrobes marched up the aisle, holding high their make-shift staffs. “And lo,
the angel of the Lord shone round about them,” another voice called. A trail of
preschoolers tripped up the aisle in white sheets and paper wings, their halos
askew.
“Behold! I bring you tidings of great joy!”
announced a tiny voice. My heart pounded. It was time for our oldest to make
his theatrical premiere. “And what to my wandering eyes should appear,” he said
boldly. I swallowed. “What’d he say?” I whispered. “A miniature sleigh and
eight tiny reindeer!” Our second born followed his lead.
Husband looked at me and grinned. ”That’s what you
get for mixing religion with fantasy,” he said softly. “With a little old
driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick,” our 4-year
old called.
There were snickers and giggles from all over the
sanctuary. Three boys dressed as wise men marched down the aisle carrying their
gifts, while the adult leader tittered behind her fingertips.
Other parents must have been reading theft children
the same poem because they continued line for line, one after the other until
our youngest shouted with gusto, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good
night! “Then he paused and finished with what he had rehearsed, “And on earth
peace, good will toward men.”
By this time, the entire congregation was laughing.
The wise teacher, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks stood in front of
the children, spoke softly and the first child began the speech. The second
time around, each child continued telling the Christmas story from the book of
St. Luke — and when it ended — received a mighty applause, followed by cookies
and cocoa in the fellowship hall.
-
For unto you is born a savior, who is
Christ the Lord. O come let us adore
him!
Peace
Pastor Charlie
