Brown Bag Christmas

When I asked our newlywed Sunday School class to share a favorite Christmas story, Carrie Fuller said, "Our family has one we call the 'Brown Bag Christmas.'" When she finished, I had to hear more. Two days later, I called a member of her family for more details.

It was the early 1930s during the Dust Bowl days of Kansas, in the heart of the Depression. The Canaday family---Mom, Dad, 7 children---were having a tough time existing, so there would be no luxuries at Christmas that year. 

 Mom told the children to go outside and find a Christmas tree and decorate it. After a lengthy search, they returned with a dead branch, the only thing they had been able to find. They stood it up in a bucket of sand and decorated it with pieces of paper tied with string. Little Judy, almost four, did not know how a Christmas tree was supposed to look, but somehow

she knew it was not like that!

As Christmas approached, the Canaday children, like children everywhere, pestered Mom and Dad about what presents they might get under their "tree." Dad pointed out that the pantry was bare, that they did not have enough to live on, and there certainly would be no money for gifts. But Mom was a woman of faith and told her children, "Say your prayers. Ask God to send us what He wants us to have."

Dad said, "Now, Mother, don't be getting the children's hopes up. You're just setting them up for a disappointment."

Mom said, "Pray, children. Tell Jesus." And pray they did.

On Christmas Eve, the children watched out the window for visitors, but no one came. "Blow out the lamp and go to bed", Dad said. "Nobody is going to come. No one even knows we're out here."

The children turned out the lamp and got in bed, but they were too excited to sleep. Was this not Christmas? Had they not asked God to send them the presents He wanted them to have? Did Mom not say God answers prayer?

Late that night, when one of the children spotted headlights coming down the dirt road, everyone jumped out of bed and ran to the window. The commotion woke up Mom and Dad. "Don't get excited, children," Dad said. "They're probably not coming here. It's just someone who got lost." The children kept hoping and the car kept coming. Then, Dad lit a lamp. They all wanted to rush to the door at the same time, but Mr. Canaday said, "Stay back. I'll go."

Someone got out of the car and called, "I was wondering if someone here can help me unload these bags." The children dashed out the door to lend a hand.

Mom said to her youngest, "Stay here, Judy, and help Mom open the bags and put up the gifts."

A deacon from the church in town had gone to bed that Christmas Eve, and lay there tossing and turning, unable to get the Canaday family off his mind. Later, he said, "I didn't know what kind of shape you folks were in, but I knew you had all those kids." He had gotten up and dressed and went around town, rousing people from their sleep to ask for a contribution for the Canaday family. He filled his car with bags of groceries, canned goods, toys, and clothing. Little Judy got a rag doll which remained her favorite for years.

With so much food, Dad wanted to have a Christmas feast, to spread it all out and eat as they had never eaten before. Mom, ever the caretaker, said, "No, we need to make this last." And it did last, for weeks.

The next Sunday, Mrs. Canaday stood in church and told what the members---and one deacon in particular ---had done for her family. There was not a dry eye in the house.

Years later, the oldest sister Eva wrote up this story about her family for a school project. Eva said, "We were so thrilled by all the wonderful things in the bags, for a while; we lost sight of the most special gift. The best gift that Christmas was not in brown bags at all. It was Mom's faith, as she taught her children to bring their needs to Jesus and trust Him to meet them. And a Dad's love that wanted only to protect his children from hurt and disappointment."

When Carrie finished telling her story, she added, "Little Judy is my wonderful grandmother." Today, Judy Canaday Dryden lives in Sanger, Texas. As she relived this event from seventy years ago over the phone, one could hear the tear in her voice and feel her pride in being the recipient of

such a precious heritage from her mother and father.

At Christmas, we celebrate praying mothers and caring fathers and believing children. We give thanks for sensitive deacons and generous friends and sleepless nights. And we praise God for the hard times that teach unforgettable lessons, stories of faithfulness that get told and retold through the years inspiring each new generation to place their faith in a loving Savior.

~ Author Unknown

Third Sunday of Advent

The 3^rd Sunday of Advent traditionally is known as Gaudete Sunday.  The term Gaudete means rejoice in Latin, a word that appears in the entrance antiphon of Masses held today: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice! The Lord is near.  The rose colored Advent candle we light reminds us that our time of waiting is almost over – there are only nine days left in our Advent Pilgrimage. 

REJOICE!  Isaiah tells us because “those whom the LORD has ransomed will return and enter Zion singing, crowned with everlasting joy” (Is. 35:10). REJOICE!  Jesus tells John the Baptist’s disciples because “the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them” (Matt.11:5).  REJOICE!  St. James tells the waiting Christians “because the coming of the Lord is at hand” (James 5: 8).  REJOICE!  Because Jesus Christ tells us that although “among those born of women, there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matt.11: 11).

REJOICE, because we are the people who inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.  We are greater than John the Baptist because we have seen the full revelation of God’s love through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  John the Baptist came to direct us to a greatness he would never experience.  Jesus, the Messiah, came to save us. REJOICE!  

Let us pray

that God will fill us with joy at the coming of Christ.

Lord God,

may we, your people,

who look forward to the birthday of Christ

experience the joy of salvation

and celebrate that feast with love and thanksgiving.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, for ever and ever.

Amen

The Farmer and Geese

There was once a man who didn't believe in God and didn't hesitate to let others know how he felt about religion and religious holidays, like Christmas. His wife did believe and raised their children to have faith in God and Jesus.

One snowy Christmas Eve, his wife was taking their children to a Christmas Eve service in the farm community in which they lived. She asked her husband to come, but he refused as usual, .. "The Christmas story is nonsense!" he exclaimed. "Why would God lower Himself to come to Earth as a man? That's ridiculous!" She and the children went, and he stayed home.

That night the wind began to blow and the snow turned into a blizzard. As the man looked out the window, all he could see was a blinding snowstorm. He sat down before the fire-place to relax . Suddenly there was a loud thump. Something had hit the window. Then a second thump. He looked out, but couldn't see more than a few feet because of the blinding snow.

When the storm let up a little, he ventured out to see what could have been beating on his window. In the field near the house was a flock of wild geese. Apparently they were flying south when they were caught in the blizzard and couldn't go on. They were lost and stranded on his farm, without food or shelter. 

Flapping their wings, they aimlessly flew around the field in low circles. Some had apparently flown into his window. The man felt concern for the geese and wanted to help them. The barn would be a great place for them to stay, he thought. It was warm and safe. They would be saved if they spent the night there waiting out the storm. He opened the barn doors wide. Then he watched and waited, hoping they would notice the open barn and enter. But the geese just fluttered around aimlessly and didn't seem to notice the barn or realize what it could mean for them. The man tried to get their attention, but that just seemed to scare them and they moved further away. He went into the house and brought out some bread, broke it up, and made a breadcrumb trail leading to the barn. They still didn't catch on.

Now he was getting frustrated. He got behind them and tried to shoo them toward the barn, but they only became frightened and scattered in every direction except toward the barn. Nothing he did could get them to go into the barn where they would be safe. "Why don't they follow me?" he puzzled. "Can't they see this is the only place where they can survive?" He thought for a moment and realized that they just wouldn't follow a human. "If only I were a goose, then I could save them," he said out loud.

Suddenly he had an idea. He went into the barn, got one of his own geese, and carried it in his arms as he circled around behind the flock of wild geese. When he released his goose, it flew through the flock and straight into the safety of the barn. One by one the other geese followed it to safety.

He stood silently for a moment as the words he had spoken a few minutes earlier replayed in his mind: "If only I were a goose, then I could save them!" Then he thought about what he had said to his wife. Suddenly it all made sense. That is what God had done. We were like the geese--blind, lost, perishing. God had His Son become like us so He could show us the way and save us. That was the meaning of Christmas, he realized. As the winds and blinding snow died down, his soul became quiet. Suddenly he understood what Christmas was all about, why Christ had come. Years of doubt and disbelief vanished like the passing storm. He fell to his knees in the snow, and prayed his first real prayer: "Thank You, Lord, for coming in human form to get me out of this world and leading me to a better one. Lead me to the safety of Your Father's arms."

~ Author Unknown

The Gifts I'd Leave

 

Mary's Dream

I had a dream, Joseph. I don't understand it.

Not really, but I think it was about a birthday celebration for our Son. I think that was what it was all about. The people had been preparing for it for about six weeks. They had decorated the house and bought new clothes. They'd gone shopping many times and bought elaborate gifts. It was peculiar, though, because the presents weren't for our Son. They wrapped them in beautiful paper and tied them with lovely bows and stacked them under a tree.

Yes, a tree, Joseph, right in their house. They'd decorated the tree also. The branches were full of glowing balls and sparkling ornaments. There was a figure on top of the tree. It looked like an angel might look.

Oh, it was beautiful. Everyone was laughing and happy. They were all excited about the gifts. They gave the gifts to each other, Joseph, not to our Son. I don't think they even knew Him. They never mentioned His name.

Doesn't it seem odd for people to go to all that trouble to celebrate someone's birthday if they don't know Him?

I had the strangest feeling that if our Son had gone to this celebration, He would have been intruding.

Everything was so beautiful, Joseph, and everyone so full of cheer, but it made me want to cry. How sad for Jesus not to be wanted at His own birthday celebration.

I'm glad it was only a dream. How terrible, Joseph, if it had been real.

Author Unknown

Millions

Contributions

We need to take note, today, of all the opportunities we have to offer a helping hand to another person. We can notice too the many times a friend, or even a stranger, reaches out to us in a helpful way. The opportunities to contribute to life's flow are unending.

Our own vibrancy comes from involvement with others, from contributing our talents, our hearts, to one another's daily travels. The program helps us to know that God lives in us, among us. When we close ourselves off from our friends, our fellow travelers, we block God's path to us and through us.

To live means sharing one another's space, dreams, sorrows; contributing our ears to hear, our eyes to see, our arms to hold, our hearts to love. When we close ourselves off from each other, we have destroyed the vital contribution we each need to make and to receive in order to nurture life.

We each need only what the other can give. Each person we meet today needs our special contribution.

What a wonderful collection of invitations awaits me today!