My favorite Christmas book is actually a long poem by Dylan Thomas, illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman, A Child’s Christmas in Wales. And with all this snow, and a houseful of children who will remember a snowy Christmas like this one for the rest of their lives, I can’t help love it even more—that line about not remembering if it snowed for six days when he was twelve or twelve days when he was six keeps rolling around in my head–
And the way Dylan’s memory is not the same as reporting, and yet is so specific to a time and place I have never been, but that I know and love and can even feel in my heart– that it is truer somehow– Yes, One Christmas is so much like another in this sea-town, too. I wanted to be sure I shared the book with you, and also, since it is Sunday, that I told you what Al said during the Children’s sermon this morning about snow and shoveling it. (It was a small but hardy band given the blizzard. Jim even skied to church.)
Fireman Al was speaking to the little kids, all gathered up front by the creche and sitting on the floor with him, but of course the grown-ups listened. He asked the children what they would do if their best friend asked them to help him shovel snow, and they all said they would be happy to ( more or less– even very little children understand that’s what friends are for.)
Next, Al asked if a new neighbor, who had just moved here and who didn’t seem to be prepared for snow at all, and had more snow in their yard than you did, asked you to help them after you had just finished your own shoveling– what you would say?
” Well…” Al thought out-loud….you might not be as keen, but you would help him, right?
And the kids nodded, Yes. They know you are supposed to help the neighbors.
Some of us adults shifted in our seats. Regular church goers, Jesus people, who are still celebrating Christmas, his birthday, the birthday of the Prince of Peace, who told us to love our enemies after all—and everyone—as much as we love ourselves — the poor, refugees and rejected–— could guess what was coming. The hard part of church. The Jesus part.
Al asked the children what they would do if the kid who had bullied them all year at school asked for help? The kids were quiet, maybe a few shook their heads, No. One parent sort of joked that may be a bridge too far (and who doesn’t feel that way when it comes to the treatment of people we love?) One child said that if the bad guy paid him a lot of money he might help.
Al said he understood, paused, and in his slow Texas twang, asked what we thought Jesus would do? Remember what we learned in Sunday school? About Jesus and love? Jesus would help them, wouldn’t he? And he wants us to as well, Al said, so that’s what we do. Shovel snow for anyone who asks us. (And, maybe some that don’t.)
A lot of people will need help shoveling if the Juneau weather office is correct—we must have three feet now, and 6-10 more inches are forecast for tonight, and tomorrow, and the next night, and the next… and so on… and that is how all Christmases roll into one. I have already forgotten if it even snowed at all last winter.
