Two weeks before Christmas, a nine-year-old girl was walking with her friend down the street, sliding on the ice. And as they walked and slid, they talked about what they hoped they would get for Christmas. Things that nine-year-old girls dream about, I suppose. And they stopped to talk to an old man named Harry who lived on that street. When they saw him, he was on his knees pulling up the dead weeds around a big oak tree. And he was wearing an old wool jacket that was badly frayed. And a worn-out old pair of garden gloves. His fingers were sticking out the ends. And they were blue from the cold.
When they asked Harry what he was doing, he told the girls he was getting the yard in shape as a Christmas present to his mother. She had passed on, he said, several years ago. And they could see tears in his eyes as he patted the old oak tree. “My mother was all I had. She loved her yard and her trees, so I do this for her at Christmas.” And his words touched something in their hearts. And the next thing he knew, they were down on their knees helping him pull weeds around the trees.
It took the three of them the rest of the day to finish the job. And when they finished, Harry pressed a dollar into each of their hands and said, “I wish I could pay you more, but it’s all I’ve got right now.”
Now, those two girls had often passed Harry’s house, and as they walked home they remembered that the house was kind of shabby. And there wasn’t a Christmas wreath on the front door. There wasn’t a tree inside or stockings or angels or even a nativity scene for decoration. There was just Harry, who seemed so lonely and so all alone, sitting in a chair by the window looking out at the trees. And the dollar—well, the dollar nearly burned a hole of guilt in the heart of the one nine-year-old girl. So, the next morning she called her friend, and they talked about it. And this is what they decided to do. They put their dollars in a jar. And they labeled the jar with a piece of paper that said, “Harry’s Christmas present”. And they started looking for little jobs to do for people so they could earn more money to put in the jar. And every nickel and dime and dollar they earned went into the jar.
Two days before Christmas they had enough money to buy a nice new pair of gloves and a Christmas card. So, on Christmas Eve they went to Harry’s house singing Christmas carols at his doorstep. And when he opened the door, they presented him with the gloves wrapped in green foil with a gold ribbon, and the Christmas card, and a pumpkin pie still warm from the oven. And his hands were trembling, but he tore the paper from the gloves, and they were amazed. They were speechless. Because Harry took the gloves, held them to his face and wept.
God slipped in. He didn’t whisk Harry out of the world or even out of that place. But he stepped in with him. Through the loving hearts of two young girls, God slipped in. The word was made flesh. And he dwelt among them, those three.
And so it is with you and me. In the everyday, ordinary encounters of our lives, God longs to be made known. And in every act of kindness, in every loving deed, in every heartfelt gesture of love and grace the Word is again made flesh and Christ is made known. Share the gift of Emmanuel with someone today. Let them experience the love of Christ through you. And share with them the great good news that the Word made flesh still dwells among us.
The Peace of Christ be with you.
Rev. Tom Nolan
