Each December,  I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful
experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations - extensive card
writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending.

Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the
precious  family moments, and of course, the true meaning of
Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year.  It was an
exciting  season for a six year old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant."

I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of
the production.  Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with
his teacher.   She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the
morning of the presentation.  All parents unable to attend that evening
were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed
happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes
early,  found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around
the room, I saw several  other parents quietly scampering to their seats.

As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class,
accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by
one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to
The holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun,
commercial entertainment - songs of reindeer, Santa Claus,
snowflakes and  good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing,
"Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in
fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads.

Those in the front row- center stage - held up large letters,
one by  one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing
"C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the  letter C. 

Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until
each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas
Love." The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed
her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M"
upside down -  totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W".

The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little
one's  mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her,
so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W".

Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter
continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it
together. A  hush came over the audience and eyes began to
widen.

In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we
celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the
chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities.

For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud
and  clear: "C H R I S T W A S   L O V E"

And,  I believe, He still is.

Take me back the story page please