Every year we say “This is a Christmas I’ll never forget” and sometimes we don’t, but more often than not, we do. However, truly this Christmas has been one that I will never forget and not because of a special gift I received or a fun holiday party I attended. No, I will always remember Christmas 2010 because this was when I met “Janet,” who taught me an important lesson about the true meaning of Christmas.
Shortly after Thanksgiving, a stranger knocked on our door to tell us that he recently observed an automobile with an out-of-state license plate parked in our driveway, its owner was frantically loading our firewood into the back of the SUV. When he stopped to ask the driver if he had permission to take the firewood, he was surprised to meet a young woman who defiantly told him that obviously the wood was not being used so she was free to take it. Since no one was home at the time and he didn’t know our names, he decided to come back later to tell us about our visitor.
When my father heard the story of the visitor, he was incensed. He works very hard to cut, split and stack firewood to heat our early-20th Century farmhouse; to have it taken by someone who did nothing to prepare it was an insult. Dad saw the stranger in our driveway later that day, pulled his truck in behind her SUV and got out to confront the stranger. Instead of the insolent stranger that he had been forewarned about, he found a scared young woman. Sensing that my mother could deal with this woman better than he, dad called my mom. When she told me what was going on, my first response was: “Shouldn’t we call the police?” It was almost Christmas, so having her arrested would be wrong, but having the police talk to someone who had violated the law and the social norms of our community seemed perfectly reasonable. Mom had another, ultimately better, plan.
In her sweet, yet direct way, mom approached the lady and started to ask her questions. Her name is Janet, she and her husband “Paul” recently moved to the area from the Deep South to live closer to his aging father. Paul had been badly injured on his previous job and was unable to work. Janet has been looking for work since moving to the community, but has been unsuccessful. Immediately mom’s heart broke; she forgave Janet, allowed her to keep the wood she had already loaded and invited her to join us for church the next morning. After Janet left, mom called around until she found a load of firewood Janet and Paul could get for free. At church, mom went out of her way to make Janet feel welcome.
I saw Janet at church every Sunday throughout Advent. No longer the frightened young lady who did not speak until addressed, she joined the praise team and even insisted on bringing macaroni-and-cheese to our Christmas potluck dinner. It wasn’t until I saw tears rolling down Janet’s cheek during an a cappella rendition of “Because He Lives,” that I realized just how right my mother was. It’s easy for me to get so caught up in abstract theories about the social contract that I lose sight of the personal equation. My plan might have stopped Janet from stealing, but it would not have addressed the innermost longing of her soul. Mom, on the other hand, remembered that Christmas isn’t about the letter of the law, but about the One sent to Earth to free us to live out the spirit of the law. She remembered another couple in an unfamiliar country who were once in need of the kindness of strangers. Janet needed something more than the social contract—as beneficial as it is—offers humanity. Mother offered Janet an opportunity to acquire what she needed and in the process, I saw the story of Christmas with new eyes and that is the best gift I could have received.
Merry Christmas, Virginia, and may you have a blessed New Year!
