Holiday Greetings -- Holiday Letters to Friends, Poem "Happy Holidays"

A Letter to a Friend at Christmas

Dear Friend,

Thank you for your most welcome e-mail.  I hope you had a good Thanksgiving.

Please consider the Christmas holidays.  And the way God, the Father sees the birth of His Son.

The thing is God, the Father is the sort of man human beings tend to look at with a question mark in their eyes:  He’s quiet, unassuming.  He comes to those human beings whom He knows will welcome Him (and if they turn out to be not welcoming, He leaves).  He’s very thoughtful of others.  He’s very likable in His own way and He does have a good sense of humor.  He doesn’t believe in having a lot of beautiful, expensive clothes as might befit a King.  The crown He wears is of the best quality (Eternity has no other), but it’s never overdone or used in a “Look what I’ve got and you don’t and you can’t have it – ever!” sort of way.  He’s just the sort of person human beings dislike mightily.

The thing is we are in God’s world.  Everything is His, made from His own hands.  And in His quiet way, He uses His world to express His happiness, His joy, His pride in the birth of His Son, like every Father.

Consider God’s physical world, the stars and the sky, and the words of the Christmas carols. 

“O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining”, etc.

“We Three Kings of Orient are, . . . following yonder star”, etc.

The second verse of The First Noel reads:  “They looked up and saw a star”, etc.

God used His stars to guide the Three Kings to the Little Town of Bethlehem.  The thing is that although God, the Father could have afforded any amount of money to have His Son, Jesus, born in the most expensive hotel in Jerusalem , He said “No, the manger in the cave is where I would rather you be born, Son.”  And so it came to pass.

The thing is, the Christmas carols do not sing of diamonds and pearls, satins and silks and other such riches, but of a quiet, peaceful night, filled with the Love of God at the birth of His Son, Jesus.  The love of Jesus’s parents, Mary and Joseph, to whom God had entrusted His Son’s upbringing.  And the love of all faithful believers who truly believed that God would send a Messiah and who accepted Jesus as that person.  For they knew in their hearts that God had kept His promise to send someone to help them through their life here on earth and so back home to Him in Eternity.

I know that God hears every word, prayer, plea and petition we may send to Him.  And I pray that if your prayers, pleas and petitions be in accord with His will and for the salvation of your soul, that He may grant what you may ask of Him.  And may He use all for His good, for His is the greater good.

I hope you have a very happy Christmas.  And I pray that your family comes back to you.  The thing is if you say the “Prayer Guaranteed to Quiet a Human Being” before you communicate with them, you will see Jesus at work in His Father’s fields. 

I hope you have a very happy and blessed Christmas.

God bless you,

Copyright Bernardette Grant, 2016, 2021 All Rights Reserved

Poem -- "Happy Holidays"
by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt

Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone
in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
and to see just who in this home did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.

No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
and on the wall pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
a sobering thought came to my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and so dreary,
the home of a soldier, now I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world, the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry, this life is my choice;

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
my life is my God, my country, my corps."
The soldier rolled over and soon drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
and we both shivered from the cold evening's chill.

I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark, night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night."

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