Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Christmas Eve 2008

It is wonderful to be back home. It especially nice to see the sun rise before half-past eight in the morning. With the sun setting at around four in the afternoon in England, I kept finding myself ready for bed at about six in the evening. The joy of reuniting with my family has helped me ignore the huge jump in temperature, from the British winter's balmy three degrees to the sweltering thirty degrees of the sugar city.

In all honesty, travel, jet-lag and having each hand firmly in the grip of my children, who no doubt refuse to let go just in case Daddy disappears, has not given me much time to work on this week's column.

Before sitting down to prepare for my Christmas morning sermon at Suva's Dudley Church (Amy Street, Toorak at 9am – All welcome), I had the urge to be a little creative this, week. Call it the inspiration of the muse, the perspiration from the western Sun, or just the desperation of the deadline. Given that this is a time of joy, of celebrating the birth of Jesus, of peace and goodwill, here is something in the tradition of Christmas. Well it mentions Christmas, presents and Santa. Enjoy!

'Twas the day before Christmas in a land with no snow,

where political correctness had banned the word “Ho!”.


The sun shone so brightly, it was as hot as in Hades,

with fake Santas outside shops all wearing their shades.


Sweating in their costumes that would have made old St. Nick blush,

and cajoling would be customers caught up in the Christmas-eve rush.


With promises of specials and cries of “buy one get on free!”

that could be heard in ATM lines that snaked back as far as the eye could see.


Parents with holes in pockets, clutched precious saqamolis in fear of being robbed,

silently grateful of fact that the national Scrooge had lost his job.


They sighed as they gazed on their children's Christmas list,

for money was tighter than an angry man's fist.


One read “Big Gun,” “Action Man,” and “Tank;”

Daddy mused if he could get away with giving just a picture of Frank.


Bublu wanted a t-shirt with Shahrukh, one of his favourite stars,

Mummy was just happy he didn't ask for one of Aiyaz.


May I please have rugby ball, with Sir-revi's” autograph” another one read,

The autograph is the easy part but it might be on a coconut instead.

Big spender who had become thrifty and turned over a new economic leaf,

was giving everyone gifts of breakfast crackers, noodles, tuna and corned beef.


At home parents remembered, the old days before times were hard,

way back when you appreciated the thought of a home-made card.


When Christmas was about sharing with family and friends and having fun.

Not rushing to buy everything on sale under the sun.


Each gift, whatever cost, said the same message true,

This is an expression of my love for you.”


These thoughts came to mind as I lay on my bed,

and wished that the fearless leader could change his white suit for red.


I pray for goodwill and peace on the earth,

especially for these islands, the place of my birth.


I would like to share with you a Christmas present sent to me by one of my friends, Jeremy. Since we began communicating via emails, Jeremy often sends me some wonderful inspirational messages and stories that he has been sent by others. Thank you Jeremy.

“In 1994, two Americans answered an invitation from the Russian Department of
Education to teach morals and ethics (based on biblical principles) in the
public schools. They were invited to teach at prisons, businesses, the fire
and police departments and a large orphanage. About 100 boys and girls who
had been abandoned, abused, and left in the care of a government-run program
were in the orphanage. They relate the following story in their own words:

It was nearing the holiday season, 1994, time for our orphans to hear, for
the first time, the traditional story of Christmas. We told them about Mary
and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the inn, the couple
went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger.

Throughout the story, the children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as
they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every
word. Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of
cardboard to make a crude manger. Each child was given a small paper square,
cut from yellow napkins I had brought with me. No colored paper was
available in the city.

Following instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid
strips in the manger for straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a
worn-out nightgown an American lady was throwing away as she left Russia,
were used for the baby's blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt we
had brought from the United States.

The orphans were busy assembling their manger as I walked among them to see
if they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little
Misha sat. He looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project.
As I looked at the little boy's manger, I was startled to see not one, but
two babies in the manger. Quickly, I called for the translator to ask the
lad why there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of
him and looking at this completed manger scene, the child began to repeat
the story very seriously.

For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he
related the happenings accurately.. .until he came to the part where Mary put
the baby Jesus in the manger. Then Misha started to ad-lib. He made up his
own ending to the story as he said, "And when Maria laid the baby in the
manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him
I have no mamma and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then
Jesus told me I could stay with him. But I told him I couldn't, because I
didn't have a gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay
with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for
a gift. I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift.

So I asked Jesus, "If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?"

And Jesus told me, "If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody
ever gave me."

"So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I
could stay with him...for always."

As little Misha finished his story, his eyes brimmed full of tears that
splashed down his little cheeks. Putting his hand over his face, his head
dropped to the table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed.

The little orphan had found someone who would never abandon nor abuse him,
someone who would stay with him...FOR ALWAYS.

I've learned that it's not what you have in your life, but who you have in
your life that counts.”

With blessings of love, light, peace and joy this Christmas and for the New Year!

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