This sad Christmas is one of the most difficult holidays I have ever had.
The other one that was hard for me was 1974 when my grandfather died on Christmas Day. It was also his birthday and he died quietly during that winter afternoon after turning 84.

Now my beloved aunt is in hospice.

She is comfortable and is not in pain, but we know the end is near.

When I visited her this afternoon she was sitting in a chair, very nicely dressed in a blue coat, talking with my uncle, and cousins. She has heart failure and after a bad fall about a month ago, has been growing worse.

It is amazing to me how fast the elderly can go down.

I have cried off and on by myself. I needed to do that. I think that’s an important part of the grief process and it begins early, just as soon as you realize what is about to take place.

Afterwards, I took my parents out to eat at a fish place.

The food was good at the tiny fast food restaurant, which is generally a nice place to eat, but something happened there during the meal that greatly disturbed me.

There was a man inside who was begging. He would go up to people who were eating and ask for money. It ruined my dinner. Not because he was nuisance but because of his need. The dejected look in his eyes as his asked for food. It’s not an exercise in ego.

A couple gave him a little money. He disappeared and later came back. Not with the big meals like we had ordered but with one little piece of fish. That was all he could afford. Somehow I was reminded of Jesus feeding the 5,000. It had only taken two fish to feed that many the way the Lord did it.

What had been expected of me? Should I have tried to give the man some money? After all, he hadn’t asked me.

Then my attention was turned to a little girl, African American, sitting at a table by herself.

She was playing with some sort of black doll, combing it’s hair and gleefully carrying on a conversation with it. I realized her mother was working behind the counter and the child had been dropped off to go home with the mother just as soon as her shift was over.

The little girl sang to the doll and glowed with happiness. Someone would be having a good Christmas, and that was reassuring.

Maybe she wouldn’t be receiving a whole lot but perhaps she doesn’t need a whole lot. It’s the anticipation, or so I’ve learned over the years.

So as we face a dark holiday shrouded in the unknown, I’m also thinking ahead in my own anticipation as a Christian- toward spring.

For us it’s a time of renewal and resurrection and hope. I realized after seeing a beautiful redbird outside my window that there will be a bright April morning coming, warm and brimming with anticipation of what can be and what I can become.
As I ask for more faith to deal with the heartbreak of this winter, I won’t be asking the Lord for a whole lot, because as He promised, an amount as small as a mustard seed will be enough for now.

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