I wrote this in 2011, presenting it on Christmas Eve, here. I'm making it
a tradition, bringing it out the last two years. Many of you may not be familiar with it, not being guests back then. The story calls to mind the meaning of this season. If you have kids, you might be fun sharing it with them.
Wishing you a peaceful and loving Christmas, The Innkeeper
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Please gather round the fireplace that warms this inn.
You've been frazzled by the siren call of Madison Avenue, QVC, the Home Shopping Network, and great deals from Amazon. Best Buy beckons you and commercials about Macy's special Christmas sales are enticing. You may be overwhelmed by the cacophony of noise at neighboring stores while enduring the whirly burly of frenzied shopping.
Please slow down. The innkeeper would like to share with you a story that places this season in perspective. My favorite Christmas Story is, well, the Christmas Story.
The following is second. I heard it when a lad of fourteen, years ago. This is my version. I’d love hearing your response.
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A pleasant, reasonable man named James didn't care for Christmas. He was not a Grinch nor a Scrooge. He just didn't want to have any-thing to do with Christ.
A hard heart, he didn't have. He was kind towards others, well-liked by his neighbors and co-workers. It was the concept that an "all-mighty, all-powerful" God that sent His Son to earth, as a man, that didn't make sense.
If God existed, he reasoned, the Almighty could open up the heavens and speak with mankind directly, telling us what we needed to know. The whole “Jesus thing” he considered ridiculous. Jesus was a well-meant fantasy.
For this educated man of the 21st century it was nonsense.
As Christmas Eve approached, James followed his holiday routine. He partied at a friend’s house, enjoying good company along with holiday cheer of the liquid kind. At 11:15 p.m. that night, he arrived at home.
Before entering, he brushed off snow from his coat. It was softly covering his lawn, home and neighborhood. Once inside, James prepared a fire in the living room fireplace.
He looked forward to reading a book while taking the chill off of his home, before calling it a night. Thirty minutes into his reading, he heard a loud thump! His curiosity peaked when he heard it again: thump!
He couldn't figure out the source for this irregular percussive noise.
He heard it a third time: thump! Something was hitting his large living room window that faced the front yard. Thinking there were teenagers throwing snowballs at his home, James rushed outside.
There were no kids in his front yard. Encircling his house, he searched for the cause of the peculiar noise. Snow was descending heavily, while its companion---icy wind---nipped at his cheeks.
He looked forward to the fire awaiting him, when he re-entered his suburban home. Returning to the front yard, James saw them for the first time. A flock of birds.
James witnessed two birds dart away from the others. They slam-med into the plate-glass living room window. Thump, thump! These feathered creatures hit the window violently, their bodies falling to the ground below.
The birds, confused and frightened by the heavy, swirling snow--– flew in despair. They saw inside James house, seeking shelter from the bitter cold of this Christmas Eve evening. No matter how hard they tried, they failed.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Three more of the birds dove into the glass, falling lifeless to the snowy ground. A good heart, James had. It troubled him, seeing the plight of the birds.
He ran to his home. Inside, all of the lights in his living room, he turned off. He thought, if the birds couldn't see inside, they might stop their attempts at getting in.
Even though the birds no longer saw inside his house, the now darkened window held the appearance of shelter – a cave opening, perhaps. The birds continued smashing into the glass, their small, feathered bodies piled up beneath the living room window.
He ran to his garage 30 feet away, throwing open its wide door to give the birds shelter. They continued slamming against the living room window, desperate for a haven from the sub-freezing weather, they were.
The birds could not be beckoned to the protection of the garage.
Finally, he rushed into the remaining flock. He yelled, waving his arms. If earlier the birds had been confused and frightened, they were now startled.
A wild man ran among them, scaring them.
He ran to his garage 30 feet away, throwing open its wide door to give the birds shelter. They continued slamming against the living room window, desperate for a haven from the sub-freezing weather, they were.
James rushed inside the garage, turning on the lights. Now, he thought, they’ll see the refuge they need is here. The birds’ focus on getting through the window prevented that possibility.
Thump! Thump! Other frantic birds crashed into the window, seeking warmth. James called out to the birds. “Hey! Over here! Over here!”
Thump! Thump! Other frantic birds crashed into the window, seeking warmth. James called out to the birds. “Hey! Over here! Over here!”
The birds could not be beckoned to the protection of the garage.
Finally, he rushed into the remaining flock. He yelled, waving his arms. If earlier the birds had been confused and frightened, they were now startled.
A wild man ran among them, scaring them.
James realized the futility. The birds could not be herded to the garage. The sickening sound of Thump! Thump! Thump! echoed their stubborn efforts at entering his home.
The snow was falling all around, as James watched in the darkness, birds dying, one by one.
He thought, “If I can be a bird for a few minutes. . . I could speak their language –--warning them. As one of them, they wouldn't fear me. I'd share how to spare themselves from the icy weather.”
With that thought, church bells from the town began pealing. It was midnight. The rings ushering the day celebrating Christ's birth.
The snow fell everywhere. It lighted upon the fences and rooftops of homes in the community, upon nearby hills, blanketing the landscape. James crumpled to his knees.
“I understand why you became man, I understand.” he whispered. Head bowed, his chin pressed against his chest. Tears streaking down his face warmed his wind-bitten cheeks.
“Now, I understand the Gift celebrated by many today.”
The snow was falling all around, as James watched in the darkness, birds dying, one by one.
He thought, “If I can be a bird for a few minutes. . . I could speak their language –--warning them. As one of them, they wouldn't fear me. I'd share how to spare themselves from the icy weather.”
With that thought, church bells from the town began pealing. It was midnight. The rings ushering the day celebrating Christ's birth.
The snow fell everywhere. It lighted upon the fences and rooftops of homes in the community, upon nearby hills, blanketing the landscape. James crumpled to his knees.
“I understand why you became man, I understand.” he whispered. Head bowed, his chin pressed against his chest. Tears streaking down his face warmed his wind-bitten cheeks.
“Now, I understand the Gift celebrated by many today.”
May you have a great and grateful Christmas!
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