Christmas Miracle

Christmas memories have been flooding my mind and unlike the last few years these memories are good. Our favorite Christmas tradition was to do something good for someone else usually anonymously. It brought a sense of joy and fun. My sons were particularly good at sneaking a package to a door, ringing the doorbell and running to a predetermined hiding place. This took study and planning. They felt like secret agents!!

One of my favorite Christmas surprises was the year that we did the manger sets. The year before I had bought five or six manger sets at Wal-Mart during the after Christmas sales. We wrapped each piece of the nativity scene and attached a corresponding scripture to it. We numbered them and placed them in baskets with instructions to open one a night. The first gift opened was the manger. The last gift opened was the baby Jesus on Christmas day.

The hustle and bustle that went into this project was fun and provided many teaching moments but we did hit a snag. I hadn't noticed that one of the sets I had bought had dark skinned, Hispanic type figures. The list we had prayerfully put together consisted of only white people. What were we going to do with that one?

I pondered all the options. I felt that we did indeed need to give it to someone. But who? I prayed some more and a young couple in our neighborhood kept popping into my head. But they were very white from a very white family in town. I kept asking, really? I kept being told yes. So, we did it.

The next year they found out that they couldn't have children. They began the long, arduous task of adoption. They had made the decision to adopt children that were in the Family Services system. After a long wait, two young sisters were given to them. They were Hispanic. Over the years, they adopted three more children. All of them were of Hispanic descent.

One year, after their third adoption I was in the house for a neighborhood party. It was Christmas time. The simple nativity scene was set up in a prominent place. One of the guests remarked on it's uniqueness. Then I was privileged to hear “the rest of the story”.

She related how delighted they were at the Christmas surprise package and how much fun they had opening each figure. But they had been confused by the skin color. Maybe it had been a mistake, maybe this was supposed to be for someone else...but they were tickled anyway.

Each year they set up the scene with the same delight and confusion. Until the Christmas after they had adopted the girls. This time as she unwrapped and set up each figure, her eyes filled with tears. The figures looked like her new daughters! She related that she realized the gift had not been a mistake but a miracle.

And I agree. It was a miracle. A gift from an all knowing God. I have never told her that it was my family that gave her the basket. But how privileged I felt to know that a loving God had used my family to help Him. This Christmas, look around you, open your eyes and your heart, find something to do for someone. God can do all things but sometimes he needs human hands to help. Be those hands and you will truly experience the Christmas spirit. That's the view from my side of the street, what's yours?.