“Papa, can you tell me about Christmas?” asked the five-year-old granddaughter of the man whose knee she was perched upon at that moment.
“Sure honey, what do you want to know?” was the confident reply of Papa.
“Well first, what’s the difference between Santa and Jesus? And do Mary and Joseph live at the North Pole? And, at Sunday School we learned about the three Wise Men, but at school we sang about Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Was Rudolph at the manger with the Wise Men,” were the initial round of questions blurted out by Katie, Papa’s granddaughter. “It’s all getting jumbled up in here,” said Katie pointing to her head.
“Well we don’t want things getting confused up there, now do we,” said Papa. “You could end up like Uncle Fred, but that’s a whole different story.”
Papa settled into the recliner and snuggled Katie close in. There was a lot of explaining to do, as Rickey often told Lucy. “First you asked about Christmas, so let me tell you about that. Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus; the son of God. That is the main reason for all the decorations, and the lights, and the funny blow up snowmen at your Daddy’s house. We have a party on your birthday right?”
On Christmas Eve of 1914 in a field in Western Europe, German and British soldiers sang Christmas songs, exchanged gifts of pudding, games, and simply enjoyed each other’s company for a short while. It was a cold and muddy place, but the miracle of Christmas sought them out, bringing happiness to most, if only for a moment. Because less than 36 hours after the Christmas truce had started, which had been suggested by Pope Benedict XV, the warring Armies of WWI resumed their horrifically bloody battle of the trenches, replacing songs with death, and laughter with tears.
That night in Europe demonstrated with extreme bias the dichotomy that exists in our world; where good and evil, or right and wrong, exchange positions in an unlikely way, creating either grief or joy, depending which side is supplanted. Goodness found its way into a very bad place by the actions of a few great men and women; actions we often see as a requirement of the job. Continue reading →