Before Christmas I found myself perched grumpily in my Church pew, praying fervently for some divine intervention to find my currently absent Christmas Spirit. The Church was beautifully lit with festive twinkling trees and the message from the pulpit telling of the joy of the impending birth of Jesus. The choral singing evoked tangible emotions in me as it always does, but I was sadly finding it difficult to celebrate the Christmas Story. When younger – I was definitely going to be the ‘Old lady who wears Purple’ now it transpires that maybe im not! I would however like to harness some of that freedom and joie de vivre rather than be joyless, crabby and glum! I was approaching the imminent arrival of the Christ Child almost with a sense of foreboding rather than the expectance of a new and exciting light.
Rescue arrived in the shape of my Grandsons’ school taking over our normal sober church for their own end of term celebrations. Little children adorned in red Santa hats and reindeer antlers swarmed excitedly over our empty pews and choir stalls like hyperactive ants on an unstoppable mission to explore and discover our ecclesiastical heritage. They simply filled the church with Joy. I really wanted to be Grumpy but I couldn’t be. Their innocent, happy voices (especially for me my Grandson’s’ solo) struck me afresh with the truth and majesty of the Christmas Story. They took confidently to the pulpit, some barely able to peep over the top, and in shrill, crystal clear tones, delivered their carefully penned offerings and beautifully crafted poetry on the topic of Homelessness. In spite of their apparent innocence, they seemed to grasp the essence of the pain of being without a home. I was assuming that they all had warm beds to go home to, and tummies full of food, so how could they know what it would be like to sleep on the streets at Christmas, but they did! In the midst of this joyful choral concert each of their poetic sermons made an impact. Adoring parents listened in hushed reverence to words they have no doubt been going over in their sleep for the last 3 weeks, still managing to look like they were struck with the awe and wonder of it all. To me, sitting in my pew, it felt just right! Christmas has arrived (albeit a bit early) We shed tears for the homeless the Children described – listened to the little ones sing their festive message with glee and rapture yet pause to individually impart this vital social message to us all – us so called ‘Grown Ups’ in the Congregation.
The Spirit of Christmas, of Love and Care for others, was right there in me – at last. As my Grandson’s poem was read, I could not help but think with pride that he has much more to teach his grumpy Grandma this Christmastime.
Prayer for the 3898
one night last year there were:
3898 people sleeping on the street
3898 People getting cold feet
3898 people who deserve kindness, respect and care
3898 people for whom life doesn’t seem fair
3898 people is too many without a roof over their head
3898 people desperately needing a safe bed
3898 people like me and you
There must be something we can do!
Together we can do better,
Together we really should
Change 3898 to zero
and end homelessness for good
Ben Owen – Aged 10
