Bethlehem and other small towns

Bethlehem and other small towns:

At our Church, every Christmas, one incredible wonderful caring giving woman organizes the "Bethlehem Family" project. This angel seeks out those in need, keeps their identities anonymous and collects donations to help give these families a Christmas that many may not otherwise have. She has been doing this for many years and the members of our Church is always ready and willing to support the project. This year she found 3 families and 2 senior citizens that needed help. Then two more families were brought to her attention. She'll always tell you it's like the story of the loves and the fishes-- we always seem to have enough to go around-- no matter if the math tells you otherwise. I could write for days about this wonderful woman, but for now I'll write about how she change my Christmas this year.

You see, I too found a family.

This family, like many others, were having a tough go of it. Mom only working part time, kids without winter coats, running the streets for lack of anything better to do. You know, the same story you've heard before. Your typical after-school special. But for me there was, is, something special about this family. This family could have been my family, had my grandparents not stepped into raise my sister and me. The two children, the mom struggling with her set of problems -- but their hardships are not the point. The point today is that when I look at these children I see me. I feel me. Back at the age of 12. Embarrassed, cold, hungry, angry, scared.

I never realized how hard it can be to look into that mirror, especially when there is suffering.

Even the most subtle things stirred something inside of me. For me, it was impossible to see and do nothing, so I told my angle and she found some funds to help. She explained that I would have to take the responsibility of shopping and delivering. Like many things now a days, there was money, but we were running out of man power and time. Our Church angle had a total of 9 households to take care of-- this one would have to be mine.

Having never done such a personal thing before, I asked some advise of a counselor who I know had contact with the family. She helped me with sizes and some other specifics. She was even willing to step in and help so I could remain anonymous... But that wasn't meant to be. She couldn't get a hold of anyone to confirm a time they would be home, or where the would be for Christmas. Their phone was not working. I'd just have to do my best.

Okay, easy I thought. And in a way it was. I knew the most important thing would be to make sure there was food, so most of the money went to gift certificates to the grocery store. From my own experiences I wrote on the certificates for food only. You see had my dad gotten them (back when I was 9 or so) he would have cashed them in for booze and cigarettes. I didn't know if this mom would, I couldn't really stop her if that was what she wanted to do (after all she could sell them) But my memories were clear, and I needed to do what I wish some one would have done back 29 or so years ago.

Buying the gifts was much harder than I thought it would be. I wanted the gifts to be just right. I wanted them to be special. I third to think back of what I would have wanted at that age. And then the mom in me took over and I though of what they needed and wouldn't be too dorky that they would still ware it. I went with warm, dark color, cable nix zip up sweaters. They had hoods like the ones I wanted when I was that age, only we couldn't afford them. One in maroon and one in gray. I also got a warm light blue fleece for their mom. Then I came home and retrieved an almost new coat from my basement. My sister gave it to me some moths ago-- she bought it and didn't like it. It was much too youthful looking form me, but for a 12 year old girl it would be fashionable and warm. It was even from a name brand store. I couldn't help but recall that we, as children never got anything from a name brand store. Unless, of course, they were hand-me downs from the woman my grandmother worked with. She always gave us close with the tags still on them. JC Penny and Kee and Marshall Fields-- stores I never went in, because we couldn't afford them. It was like Christmas every time grandma would bring home a bag of cloths. I hoped the young girl would like the jacket.

The last things to buy were a gift card from the local discount store, and a Christmas card. I searched for nearly 20 minutes for a card that had something to do with Christmas. I didn't want happy holidays, or seasons greetings. I didn't want Santa or a snow man. I wanted a card of hope. I card with a promise, much like the promise of this little King to be born into this world. I found one that said blessings... It would work. It would have to. There was nothing else.

I was in my car, bags full, card done, presents wrapped and then it happened.
Fear.
The fear of What if.

The things I pushed away, back in my mind, when I started this whole thing began to come forward again. Remember, if you will, I was this child. I knew what I may walk into and it may not be pretty. Drinking, drugs, poverty or worse yet... Being alone. I wish some one would call me right now. Maybe my car will die. Maybe my own kids need me, I'll call home to check. My mind raced looking for an excuse and then it hit me ... The wise men and the others who visited the baby Jesus. The wise men, when and followed a star, they hoped to find some good, to worship, a King to praise. I'm not so wise but I too needed to go somewhere strange, and somewhere hauntingly familiar. The wise men knew what they hoped to find, but they must have known the risk too. I felt like I was starting to understand. There was risk, I may not like what I would find. They may not be home. They may not receive me with peace but with contempt. But still, I must go and give my gifts and do the work of the Lord and of the Angel (of our Church) who sent me.

I paused.
I prayed. "God, please."

It was all I could think of. It was all I knew to pray at that moment. God must have heard, because it was enough. I put the car in gear and drove to the apartment. As I waited to turn into the drive way a car pulled up just before mine.

They parked.

I parked.

It was them.

The mother had just gotten off of work. I was lucky to catch her. The daughters were home with some neighbors over. No drugs, no drinking. None of my demons at the door. Just Surprise. Gratitude. Excitement. Joy. Blessings.

Is this what the wise men felt? Is this what all those who went to seek out the child felt that night? Could it be that some how I could have received such a blessing for such a small thing? I was suppose to give them the gifts. How was I able to receive so much. I am humbled.

Tonight, because of an Angel, I was there. I followed a star. I found a blessing and hope. Not in Bethlehem, but in another small town.