Category Archives: Holidays

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The Year Christmas Changed Our Family’s View of Giving

“Let’s do something different for Christmas this year” she said to me.

IMG_0278I wanted it to be a nice Christmas, one to remember — and it was. That year’s Christmas celebration had a different twist to it. The annual, traditional, gift-giving exchange between our family units did not happen—on purpose. It had been my sister’s idea to begin with.

“In light of Hurricane Katrina, I was thinking it might be a good idea to give a money donation to help someone in need instead of us exchanging gifts with each others’ families,” my sister said during a phone conversation a few weeks before Christmas.

“What are you proposing? How would we do it?” I asked, curious about her thinking. She responded that it would be nice to still include the gift exchange between the grandchildren and grandparents, but the rest of us could donate to a favorite charity of Mother and Dad’s or something like that. She said she would talk to everyone first  to see if they would like to do this in lieu of a gift exchange. I agreed to the idea.

I have to admit my silent reaction was one of disappointment. I have always enjoyed the way our family exchanges family to family as everyone comes together with homemade and unique gifts with lots of personal touches. But quick on the heels of that thought was one of relief. Now I wouldn’t have to search and search to find the right gifts. I thought to myself, it’s a good thing I am not an early shopper and this will make Christmas easier.

As Christmas drew nearer it was decided by all the extended family that that was what we would do. Our different families would make suggestions as to who the recipient could be. I thought of a couple of families who could use some help. It made me wonder how we would figure it out in a way that would please everyone.

The next time my sister and I talked, she said that my other sister and brother-in-law from Panama who were in the states for the year, had suggested someone from their mission ministry in Panama who they had led to the Lord. I told her that I had been thinking of someone else, too, but probably, with my choice, the need was not as great.

A decision was made that on Christmas Day we adults would have a round table discussion. Each could share what was on their heart about who would be the recipient of our family’s money gift. What a nice way to handle this, I thought to myself. The Christmas was going to be extra special in other ways as well, both of my brother-in-law’s mothers were coming to California to join our family, one from Idaho and the other from Montana. I thought this type of gift exchange would make it more comfortable for them as well.

My parents’ house was bursting at the seams with family on Christmas Day that year. There were over thirty of us. How blessed it was and such a meaningful time. After dinner, we adults gathered round the antique, mahogany dining room table.

Suggested Recipients

Recipient 1. My brother and his wife shared about a woman in their church who was struggling. Her husband had left her and money was tight. She could use a helping hand and especially the encouragement.

Recipient 2. I shared about an older woman whose husband was in jail. Her funds were limited and the difficulty of her situation made it an emotional and financial hardship. I knew it would be a blessing to her. She had little money to live on and her grown children didn’t have the means to support her.

Recipient 3. I also shared about a family new to my church. He was a recent convert recovering from substance abuse and had recently been hospitalized for leukemia. He was musically gifted and active on our church worship team. I thought it might be an encouragement to him and his family.

Recipient 4. My brother-in-law shared with us about the woman in Panama. She was a housekeeper in Panama who had been diagnosed with a serious illness. She had undergone surgery but had physical limitations. As a single parent, she cared for her daughters as best she could but was living in hardship. Her faith was strong despite the severity of her situation.

As a group, we decided that we adults could donate to whomever we wished from the different needs that had been suggested. During the rest of Christmas Day each of us would make contact with the person who had mentioned the need and contribute to them privately. All the suggestions were worthy. It would be hard to decide. I hoped all would receive donations.

As the day progressed, different ones came to me to donate to the two suggested recipients I had mentioned. It touched me when one of the mother-in-laws’ contributed to my suggestions. I hadn’t expected a guest to participate. I did the same with some of the other requests. I found myself giving more than I would normally have spent on family gifts. I wanted each one to receive a generous amount. To the young woman whose husband had left her, I wrote a note of encouragement by acknowledging and then relating to her painful situation.

During the week that followed, I sent out notes to both my gift-recipients, stating that the gift was from the Brumbaugh family, although it really was from God through us. I deliberated on how to word it, to say it in a correct way.

Recipients’ Responses to the Money Gifts

Response 1. It was a joy to hear back after the gifts were received. The woman whose husband was incarcerated called me up, her voice appreciative with a hint of emotion in it. Yes, times had been hard and she was grateful for the gift and for our concern for her. She wanted me to thank everyone. It would meet a specific need.

Response 2. The man from my church thanked me, his smile genuine and words sincere, telling me it met a need. My pastor later told me that when the card was received, this man told him that it was exactly the amount needed to meet their house payment. The gift surprised him and blessed his family while also encouraging him in his faith.

Response 3. The note I wrote to the woman who had been left by her husband didn’t go unacknowledged, either. Later she and I met at a retreat and we talked for hours. She was looking for answers and I shared what I could from what I had learned during the hard times. Our hearts met in understanding, two women looking to God when the pieces don’t fit after your marriage falls apart.

The family celebration that year was one of those special times when the true meaning of Christmas was felt by all. It is both satisfying and rewarding when we give to others with no thought of receiving anything in return. I’m glad my sister helped our family see the joy of giving to help and to bless.

That year Christmas was an extra blessing to all who received and to all who gave.

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The End of the Road: A Story of Redemption

A Christmas Tale by N. L. Brumbaugh

The man made his way to the gate; head bent, trench coat braced to the wind, shivering. Yes, this was the place. Overgrown with ivy, its black metal spikes pierced the darkness of the moonlit night. Its ancient posts signified a defense against the outside world. A mangy dog padded twenty paces behind him, paused, then sat itself down on its haunches. The mutt’s head followed the man’s every movement. Its ears twitched in alert reflex as they twisted toward the train rails to and from town.

Resisting the urge to launch a rock at the hound, the man peered at the gate, remembering. Was it a decade or two decades ago that this place had been called his home? where he had once supped with others of like-minded thinking. Desperate straits had brought him back. It had come to this. This was a last resort. The end of the line.

Wooo-woot. He could just barely hear the engine whistle. Must be the midnight rail. His hand fumbled around as it searched to locate what he was looking for and found himself unable to contain its unwelcome tremor. Could he do this thing? Can a person ever make peace with the past? His misdeeds had been many. His errors dark as the grime on his unwashed hands. The bell, a twelve inch affair, remained still. His hand unhooked then tightly clasped the chain while his other fingers traced the cross imprint on the bell’s flared side above its rim. Sorrow. What might have been. Indecision stopped him. Thud, thud, thud, his racing heart beat its staccato rhythm as alarm rose in his chest. Better do this thing, he encouraged himself, before I lose my nerve . . . before its too late.

Clang. Clang. Clang. The sound pierced the frozen night air. No. They wouldn’t send him away, not on Christmas Eve. He was sure of it. He listened. Then, the sound of feet tapping on cold stone pavement in the distance; the rustling of clothing, increasing, becoming louder, closer. The hound’s hair began to rise. The dog stood up.

“Who’s there?” A voice inquired.

“A stranger. One of your former brothers.”

“What is your name?”

“Just a friend who will cause no harm. My name will remain undisclosed. I am in need of your hospitality.”

An aging monk peered through the slits. His eyes squinted as they focused on the bent figure. He unlocked the hasp then lifted the steel peg from the ground. The gate swung open with nary a squeak as it offered its path to salvation. The cleric gestured, enter. The stranger followed, then paused, while the great gate closed behind the two men. The hound slunk over to the gate’s pier,  made a circle, then huddled in a round ball for body warmth. The men walked on. No words exchanged between, nor were questions asked.

A wooden door opened. The hallway echoed, their steps made strident slapping sounds in the empty darkness. Wall sconces held lamps lit in somber amber glow. They passed a fountain. His heart jolted uncomfortably. Its memory brought a stinging sensation to the traveler’s eyes. I remember. Oh, how I remember. Regret crashed inside his head. Why, oh why? How stupid he had been. He swept his brow to push the thought aside. That was then, but this was now. They continued on in silence. He had forgotten how incredibly silent this place could be.

“Remain here.” The monk’s vestments swished; then announced his retreat.

“We’ve been expecting you. Come in. Come on in and view our relics.” From the next room a voice came alive; it was masterful, calm, authoritative, rich–and peaceful. The visitor was not given a choice. Enter, he must. The shivering lessened. The visitor rubbed his chapped hands; oh how he wished he had gloves to hide their filth. Guilt and shame collided as he stood there, awaiting what was sure to be asked next. Yes, this was it. He stepped inside the room. The voice continued on, and it commanded truth from him. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Well, I, uh, it’s a long story, not very pretty. I’ve done a lot of wrong things, hurt people, ya know,” the words jumped out in a nervous jabber. He couldn’t quite make them behave. “I came because I want to make my peace. My life is over. I’m wanted . . . and I’m tired. They will find me. Soon.” He gulped; his throat dry. This was going badly. In a whisper the rest was laid bare in a silent plea of regret. “I wanted to see this place one last time, to say,” . . . his voice hesitated . . . “I’m sorry. To seek forgiveness for the wrong I’ve done” . . . “before” . . . His voice trailed off. The words spilled forth from a longing deep inside the haunted man. He saw the impossibility.

It was already too late, he knew that now. It had been a mistake to come. “Please forgive me for intruding. I’ll be leaving now. I shouldn’t’ve come. Really. It was bad of me. This place is not for the likes of me. I’m sorry for troubling you.” A sigh escaped as he hung his head. It was over. His demise was eminent. He’d come prepared. He fingered the metal inside his pocket—yes, it was still there. It would culminate in the early hours of Christmas Day. The end was near. Indeed, all hope was erased. It had been a weak hope to begin with. Yes, this was the end of the line.

“I said, you are expected,” the voice spoke again as if not hearing or concerned with the confessor’s confession. The traveler’s confusion mounted. He glanced at the tall man standing a few feet to his side. How could this be? He’d told no one of his plans.

The room burst into light. It was a museum. The robed figure’s arm swept out to indicate the display cases that circled the room’s perimeter. His gesture commanded, look. In awe the man glanced around him. Horror surfaced at what he gazed. Each glass plane surface held an artifact, not something pleasant but a repulsive image. Their appearance caused the man to retch and to involuntarily step back in confusion. His eyes glanced around. On each glass table was a pink-skinned creature, long dead, denude of fur, it’s head, feet or both removed. Each was mounted to a table surface; their faces were horrible, repulsive gargoyle-like images.

The man gasped. The images seemed to beckon him; Remember this? Remember that thing? The urge to escape was in panic mode, but he remained transfixed, immobile, glued to the spot. Something powerful was at work. What was this? What could it mean? What were these wretched creatures he was being forced to view?

The stranger’s gaze rested on the first creature. What was it? . . .when suddenly, “Poof,” it disappeared. Wha-a-at? His eyes rested on the next image. . . . “Poof,” then it was gone too. Hesitantly his eyes moved to the next table. It was hard to do, their pink-ugliness was revolting even to him. After a few seconds it disappeared too. Gone. His eyes looked from image to image, recoiling at their ugliness, each one remaining motionless until a beam from his eyes joined that of the object until it dissolved into nothingness.

It was odd. Then he came to the last creature, an over-large phantom-freak with repulsive pig-like features. It sat on top of an isolated display case in the back of the room; its exceedingly evil essence caused him to inhale and his breath to catch. The visitor spoke in a fragment of a whisper, commanding it to go away, “You, too.” . . .The thing disintegrated before his eyes and soon was no more. Depletion emptied him of all feeling. What did it mean? The tall robed figure nodded, pleased with him. Yes, well done, his actions indicated approval. There was compassion in the tall man’s eyes and there was warmth and approval in his countenance. An awareness entered into the stranger. It was a transaction. Something was different now. What was it? Gone. It was all gone! ‘They,’ were gone. His guilt, removed. Forgiven. Atoned. Finally . . . finally, peace. Relief flooded the traveler’s being, a flush warmed him from head to toe. All is well that ends well. He had been wise to come.

“You are free to leave or free to stay. It is your choice to make. All are welcome. None are turned away.”

The scraggly hound lifted its head, howled its lonely bay as a train clattered frantically into the silent night. On the other side of the gate, Christmas claimed another miracle.

Peace on Earth.

The Rest of the Story. This story is loosely written from a dream I had that startled and then woke me up. I was in that room with the creatures and a tall robed figure was with me. I saw the ugly pink-skinned creatures, most of them without heads or feet. All were laying on the top of glass display cases. They revolted me. As I looked at each one, it would disappear after a few seconds of my staring. I realized after two or three evaporated into thin air that I was to look at each one until, hopefully, it would disappear. Finally, I came to the ugliest and largest one of all, right next to the door where I could escape. It took longer to dissolve. The robed figure was pleased with me.

When I woke up, I thought long about it. In my mind the mounted creatures represented evil beings, whether demonic or not I did not know. I wondered if it held a message for me, like God using me (or us) to fight in the battle against the evil forces in this world.

Later, I decided to incorporate the idea in a short story about the sinner and his redemption in a modern day parable. In this story, the robed figure is Jesus and the table creatures are the traveler’s past evil deeds. He is repulsed by their ugliness like we should be repulsed by the evilness of our sinful deeds.

In conclusion, Jesus is the one Who heals, forgives and transforms. Remember the reality of this true, living miracle and reason for Jesus Christ entering our world as a human God-man to offer us the way of salvation for the redeeming of our souls.

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This is a reposted blog.