A Christmas Song

Lat night at church, we had our musical Christmas program. They started this three years ago. Instead of a choir cantata, we have a sing-along-type program called, "Home for the Holidays." We have dinner at 5:15 followed by the music at 6:00. It's like sitting in the living room of your home, singing Christmas songs with some of your best friends.

Lots of little groups perform, also. Each of the girls in the teenage girl's choir did a short solo. Some of the adult soloists in the church sang, as well. The handbells played. And my Deanna sang.

She was in a back-up group for a soloist, singing on the chorus. The song was "Christmas Shoes", which was ironic, because I had just brought this song to Deanna's attention. On the morning of the Christmas Fair, Don and the boys, who were ready early, took off for the school to begin set-up. It was very cold out and I didn't have a pressing need to be there early, so Deanna and I left about a half hour later and ran to Sonic for coffee and breakfast. I ordered a breakfast burrito and decaf, but they were out of decaf coffee. In frustration, knowing this meant we would have to go to yet another drive-thru, I waited for my burrito. I was tapping my foot impatiently and decided to turn on the radio to calm me down.

While Deanna and I chatted and we waited, the song, "Christmas Shoes" came on the radio. I recognized it near the very beginning and turned it up, telling Deanna the story briefly to peak her interest. We listened together to every word and bawled our eyes out when it was done. It's such a beautiful song, and so poignant. After Choir Rehearsal last week, Deanna met Don and I in the sanctuary, where we were practicing handbells, bubbling over with excitement.

"Mommy, remember that song you played for me?" she burst out. "You know, 'Christmas Shoes'? We're singing it at Home for the Holidays. I'll be singing the chorus."

I've been hearing the song for the last week, either from Deanna's mouth as she practiced or in my own head. For those of you who don't know the song, it's a story about a young boy on Christmas Eve who's trying to buy a pair of shoes, but doesn't have enough money. In desperation, he turns to the man behind him and relates his story.

"Mama always made Christmas good at our house, though, most years she just did without. Tell me, Sir, what am I gonna do, somehow, I've got to buy her these Christmas shoes...Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please. It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size. Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time. You see, she's been sick for quite a while and I know these shoes would make her smile, and I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight."

Last Saturday, Deanna's little girl's group had their Christmas Party. We went caroling to three homes in the neighborhood and went to the Kent's house. The woman in charge of the meeting had called and asked permission for our girls to bring ornaments for the Kent children to hang on their tree. Joey agreed.

When we arrived, no one was home but the oldest daughter. Joey had said they might all be gone to ballgames, but he'd leave the door unlocked and we could come in and put the ornaments on their tree. As we filed into the living room, I couldn't keep my eyes off the tree. My friend, Kelly, had taken dinner to the Kent's the night they decorated the tree. The next day, when we spent our Wednesday morning together, she poured out her heart to me.

"Patti, they're so filled with joy. It's hard to even understand." I agreed. I had noticed the same thing. We decided it was the grace of God.

"But the thing about it is this - the only ornaments they have on the tree are one that's a Wonderful Life ornament that Theresa gave Joey and special ornaments that she handmade for each of the children and Joe with their initials on them." She went on to express concern that the baby, Michaela, might not have one, since she's only 6 months old. "What if that baby grows up being the only child in the family to not have one of those ornaments from her Mom?" Kelly's concern poured out of her. We talked about various options, such as Kelly helping the oldest daughter make one for the baby, etc. In the end, we didn't come up with any solutions, and agreed to pray.

On Saturday morning, the first thing I noticed on the tree was a prominantly displayed hand-made felt ornament with the word, "Baby" on it. Joy flooded my heart. Apparently, Theresa, without even knowing if the baby she was carrying was a girl or a boy, made sure that one had an ornament, as well. Michaela will always have that to cherish and will know, for the rest of her life, that her mommy loved her, even if she has no memory of that cherished mother.

Last night, after the Program at Church, I came home and started more baking. While I worked in the kitchen, the words to that song ran through my mind continuously. Mingled with the song words was the memory of that beautiful red ornament with "Baby" in gold on the front. Life can be just as painful as a Country Western song, but in that sadness can be great consolation. One selfless act of a mother, without ever understanding what the future would hold for her and her family, will sustain that child at difficult times over the holidays in the future.

We are living through a Country Western song this Christmas, but God's grace is sufficient. He will sustain that family as they sit in their living room looking at the ornaments lovingly made for each of them by their mother. And they will remember all the good times. Sad memories fade quickly. It is God's plan that we remember the good and forget the bad. Thank God for that. And thank God that Theresa had the foresight to make an ornament for her unnamed baby. "Mama always made Christmas good at our house though, mostly, she just went without."