Miracles are real, especially Christmas miracles.
In this, the darkest time of year, we celebrate the miracle of light. My celebration of it started out slowly as I struggled to find lights to put on the Christmas tree. The orange strand I had leftover from Halloween was only half lit, so I tore down the ones from the ceiling that I’d been using to light up the living room and wrapped those around the tree. After being poked by the branches the whole way up and down, the strand wasn’t attached to the plug-in star at the top. Once I got the star attached, the cords were ugly and visible. I got that challenge hurdled but still wasn’t feeling the joy of the light.
Then I saw a special on Christmas lights on TV where a guy incorporated lights into his beautiful and unique sculptures. He reused all sorts of items to make giant works of art that people from all over would come to enjoy. The light inside me was growing warmer.
Then I walked into the bedroom to find my toddler painting with glow-in-the-dark paint all over the wall. There were drops on his blankets and his dresser. He looked at me silently with wide eyes. He had a big glob on his shirt. I looked down and saw this light, right above his heart, and the bright glow of light spread from his heart and into mine.
“Those are the most beautiful stars I’ve ever seen,” I told him honestly. His eyes lit up. I gave him a huge hug and got some of the glowing paint on my hands too. We sat in the dark, admiring the beauty of the green light in the darkness.
Miracles like these seem to fill many hearts at this time of year. As I searched for a Christmas ham in the grocery store, I turned around to see a woman offering me one the exact size I needed from her cart. “Merry Christmas” she said, smiling, as I thanked her.
One memorable year, when I was feeling quite poor and depressed over Christmas, I went outside to change the garbage at work and found someone had left brand new packages of boxes and wrapping paper on top on the lid. I knew it must’ve been Santa.
While taking a walk yesterday, a neighbor pulled off the road to give Adam a candy cane. “Merry Christmas” he said. “Thanks Santa” I smiled and waved as he drove off. “We can all be Santa,” I explained to Adam, “when we see an opportunity to spread joy by giving.” He nodded and broke open the candy cane, flicking his tongue to catch all the peppermint sweetness from his mittened fingers.
Merry Christmas to you all! May you all feel the light by being Santa to others and be blessed by those that are Santas to you as well.