During the month of December for the past ten years a jolly light up Santa has been standing proudly on our front porch. But this year, we decided to upgrade to the Holy Family. We arranged Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus on the front lawn, tracked down our extension leads, and plugged them in. Beautiful! The baby Jesus brought light to our neighborhood, which of course, is what Jesus always does.
My husband and I watched from the window as the children who live in the street came to admire the display. It gave us a good feeling to advertise the true meaning of Christmas.
But last week, when the heavy snows came, the baby Jesus disappeared, buried under a deep blanket of white. And as I scraped away the snow to see his little face, it reminded me of all the ways we bury Jesus at Christmas.
Jesus is buried under all the tinsel and trimmings; hidden in the busyness of shopping; obscured by those who feel the need to wish me Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas.
But I am not worried by all of this. Instead, each day as I lift out the baby Jesus and place him on top of the snow where his light can be seen, it reminds me to elevate him to the place he belongs every day of my life- at the top of my to do list.
And to those who wish me Happy Holidays I do not frown. I smile, and say almost the same in reply. I wish them Happy Holydays, because 'holiday' is a compound word, derived from the two words 'holy' and 'day'.
And this is why I smile...because no matter how much we try to run from it, or how deep we try to bury the baby, Christmas is all about the birth of Christ, a true holy day. What a wonderful lesson to teach our children!