Have you time for a Christmas story?  That first Christmas when my youngest son, Noah was overseas I found myself with this intense sorrow that lasted the entire season.  Now, I am a tough, stoic pure-bred German who does not give into fits of tears but many nights, I found myself inconsolable (just like a cow when they take her calf away).  If crying could have helped, I would have been able to pull myself out of it, but nothing eased the pain of not knowing where he was or even if he was alive.

The next Christmas, knowing that once again he would not be walking through our door, I decided that enough was enough and I would not allow my sadness to take over our holiday. I decided to pour myself into the lives of others who were less fortunate than me and pray for healing for my heart.  Long story short: it worked!  I was not only able to make it through the season, but that heavy heart lightened each time I reached out with an act of kindness.

During the five years Noah served in the Army, he only came home once. I decided that year to continue sending a package overseas as it had brought me so much pleasure.  But you can’t mail a package overseas without an address, so I got my friend to ask her son-in-law for a name of someone stationed overseas who hadn’t received a package from home.  Can you imagine never getting any cookies or comfort from your family while serving your country far from home? It was with great joy that I sent my first package filled with Vaseline, wet wipes, a DVD, the coveted soft toilet paper, and vacuum-packed summer sausage.

I told my friend, Bernice how good it felt to help a soldier.  The next week, here comes my dear friend knocking on my door.  She popped into Buchheit and picked up the very items that I needed and plenty of them!  Jumbo packs of beef jerky, wet wipes, chapstick, Slim Jims, and on top of all that, she hands me enough money to send three more packages.   What a blessing!  But that’s just the start of this Christmas miracle.

The next week, I got a call. My 37-year-old godson, Luke tragically died of a massive heart attack.  I was in a daze of grief and regret. I should have told him more often how much I loved him.  I was a wreck until I put out a call to friends to pray for me.  It is always amazing to me when you feel the peace of God that passes all understanding come and soothe your broken heart.

The next day, my sister, Luke’s mother asked me to help her with food prep for the evening of the wake.  On my way there, I stopped at a Post Office in Troy, IL.  I entered the building and got into the long line.  My day had been terrible.  I was hours behind getting to my sister’s home, but I didn’t want my second package, the one with the homemade cookies and Bernice’s beef jerky to not get to the soldier before Christmas.  I lay the box on the counter, and the lady behind me asked me what it was.  I told her about Noah and the soldier but then I told her about Luke, and I started to cry.  I hate to cry.  I could not stop the flow of tears.  I mentioned to this lady that I was late getting to my sister’s and asked if she would mind if I gave her the money to mail my package.  I opened my wallet and saw that I only had a 100-dollar bill.  I was so muddled that I didn’t think to ask to cut in line for change as by now everyone was watching the scene unfold.  The man in front of me said, “Don’t give it another thought; I’ll pay the postage.”  So did the lady behind me but she said: “but first I need to give you a hug,” which she did.  I left the package with them knowing that Jesus had chosen a unique way to lighten my heart but assured me of how much he loved our soldier.  It was a Christmas miracle when total strangers reached out to not only me in my sorrow but to a solitary soldier serving far from home.

Do you know a soldier?  Do you know someone who may be unloved, someone hard-hearted due to too much rejection? Do you know a lonely soul who needs a kind word or a hot meal? Maybe your soldier is that strong-willed kid who always has a smart answer or that working husband who loves you but hasn’t a clue about the work of Christmas.   Your soldier may be someone who you need to forgive without ever confronting them.  I don’t know who your soldier may be, but I believe that if you open yourself up to the possibilities, the encounter will enrich you.

I will never forget this bittersweet Christmas, but I will cherish the memories of friends and total strangers who pulled together to bless our soldier.

 

Merry Christmas! Sincerely Anne May