Editors of Adams Media - A Cup of Comfort Prayers and Stories for Christmas: Celebrating the Joys and Blessings of the Season

Avon, Massachusetts

Counting down the days for something special can be difficult, but most of us would agree there are things well worth waiting for. In some respects, the waiting often prepares us for the event to come. Whether its the birth of a child or a move to a new city, the days and weeks beforehand allow us to absorb the reality of a significant change in our lives. Our days are often occupied with joyful anticipation, and even when were not physically involved in preparing for the big day, our minds and hearts are filled with eager anticipation.

So, slow down, take a deep breath, and enjoy these stories and prayers about Christmas with your heart and mind open to the miraculous day when God became man. Welcome the Lord into your home to help you prepare for a birthday party fit for a King.

By Connie K. Pombo

WHERE'S JOHN'S CAMERA ? I shouted. With Christmas music blaring in the background, my husband had just finished putting up the tree lights. It was obvious he didnt hear me the first time, so I repeated the words slowly and deliberately. Wheres Jons camera?

Still no answer.

I walked calmly over to the tree, placed my husbands face in my hands, and repeated the words, Okay, Mark, where did you hide the Christmas gifts because Im in no mood to play reindeer games.

Mark wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, planted a kiss on my cheek, and said, Cmon, honey, wheres your Christmas spirit?

I wiggled out of his embrace and looked directly into his eyes. Hand over the gifts and no one will get hurt. Understand?

Mark chuckled. I just love it when you get feisty like that.

It was December 19, 2007, and I felt rather smug about the fact that I had accomplished everything on my Christmas to-do list, except one thing wrap the gifts. I thought my husband was trying to slow me down long enough so he could unravel the tangled web of Christmas tree lights and get them up before Jon arrived home from Grove City College in Pennsylvania.

Okay, thats enough. What did you do with them? I demanded.

Marks look of surprise stunned me; he was telling the truth. After thirty years of marriage, I could tell the difference between a lie and a half-truth. Marks nostrils always flared when he was trying to hide something from me, but this time, those nostrils stayed put. He really didnt know.

A huge lump formed in my throat as I tried to sputter out the words, The gifts are gone! I finally blurted out.

Mark looked puzzled. Thats simply not possible. Maybe you misplaced them, sweetheart!

All of them? I countered. I dont think so!

We searched the house: the basement, the attic, under the beds, inside the dryer, behind the washer, and in the car trunk, but we came up empty. No gifts. Back inside the house, I slumped down in the kitchen chair to reflect on what could have happened. Then, I remembered.

Two days before, I left the house for a few hours without locking the door, something I rarely did. I had a few writing deadlines to accomplish, so I headed for my favorite Internet caf with free Wi-Fi. I enjoyed a bowl of cappuccino and a pumpkin spice muffin and promised myself I wouldnt leave the premises until the job was done.

A few hours stretched into six before I returned home. There was nothing misplaced, and the Christmas tree was still standing, so I assumed there was no harm done. What I had forgotten were the Christmas gifts lying in the middle of the basement floor, waiting to be wrapped. Thats what I had missed until now.

Honey, I think I know what happened, I said softly.

What?

I cleared my throat and made a full confession, I left the door unlocked when I went out for a few hours a couple of days ago, but I didnt notice anything missing because the gifts were all in the basement.

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek as I watched Marks face transform into total disbelief. I guess I might have left the Pombo Department Store open for business, I said.

Are you saying that weve been robbed? he asked.

I nodded my head sideways, then up and down.

There were five shopping days until Christmas, and that was definitely more days than money. We simply couldnt go out and buy new gifts for the family; it wasnt in our budget. One of the first purchases on my Christmas list had been Jons camera. He put in the request a year in advance, and I couldnt wait to see his face on Christmas morning when he opened it. Now, there would be no camera nothing. I called Jon first.

Jon, I have some sad news!

There was a long pause. What is it, Mom? he asked. Did someone die?

Oh no, nothing like that, I said. Jons inquiry set the stage for my second confession. The words trickled out, We I mean I left the front door unlocked a couple of days ago.

So what? You always do that.

Despite the newly formed lump in my throat, I continued my miserable tale. Well, this time I left it open for someone else to take all of our Christmas gifts. I said through the newly formed lump in my throat.

There was another pause, this one longer than the first. Jon, are you still there?

I could tell by his silence that he understood the reality of my words. There would be no presents under the tree. My tears spilled into the phone receiver, onto the stack of Christmas cards, and seeped into the keys of my laptop.

Im so sorry, Jon. They even took your camera. Now, Id done it. I spoiled the surprise, and then I told him he wouldnt be receiving the gift he most wanted. What kind of mother was I?

Mom, its okay. I mean that. Lets do what we used to do on Christmas.

Whats that? I asked.

Lets read the Christmas story.

I thought my ears had betrayed me, so I asked again, Im sorry, honey, I didnt hear you the first time. Did you say, read the Christmas story?

Yeah, Mom, thats what we used to do. Remember?

How was it that my son understood the true spirit of Christmas, while I had obviously forgotten? My heart was in my throat. Was he in a state of shock, or were all those years in training beginning to pay off?

There was a time in our lives when we didnt have money for gifts. We struggled to put food on the table and gas in the car, but those were the best Christmases. We made ornaments out of salt dough, drove downtown to see the lighting of the Christmas tree when we couldnt afford one of our own, and came home to read the nativity story from the Big Book of Bible Stories while we sipped hot cocoa with marshmallows.

I had almost forgotten how simple Christmas used to be. My eyes sparkled with fresh tears and a smile spread across my face. Yes, Jon, I do remember, and I think thats a wonderful idea. I love you, I whispered.

Jon arrived home from college two days later. On Christmas morning, we awoke to a tree full of colored twinkling lights. It was decorated with simple dough ornaments and red velveteen bows just like the ones Jon had remembered. There were no presents, but we placed a gold star at the top of the tree to remind us of the Star of Bethlehem that guided the Wise Men to find the Christ child over two thousand years ago.

Afterward, Jon pulled out his worn, leather Bible from his backpack the one we had given to him when he was six years old and read the Christmas story from the book of Matthew. I reached over and grabbed Marks hand as he brushed tears from his eyes.