The year was 1966. It was mid-December and the weather was bleak, which matched my mood exactly. My husband was in Vietnam and I was filled with self-pity at the thought of spending the Christmas holidays without him. I wanted to hibernate and not emerge until the holidays were over. I did not wish to deal with our teenage son wanting a motorcycle for Christmas, one daughter wanting a horse and saddle, and the youngest one presenting me with a two-page list of wishes! I had explained to them what shape our finances were in. However, they seemed to think their mom could pull a rabbit from a hat. Ha!
Suddenly, overnight, a phone call came and things took a drastic change. A close friend from Georgia asked if we were spending the holidays at home or with my mother. I told her we would be home by ourselves. She then asked if she and her little girl could fly out and spend several days with us. Her husband had been killed earlier that year and she didn't want to stay home alone. This was not in my plans, to have a three year old under foot but I immediately felt such guilt and remorse for having this feeling! I assured her we would be at the airport to meet them the next day.
The first thing my friend asked when we arrived home was, “Louise, where is the tree?”
I hung my head and mumbled, “I hadn't planned to put one up this year.” She assured me a tree would be up and decorated that very evening. When it was all finished, with the help of all four children, we stood back and admired the tree. We then realized the star needed to be placed on top of the tree so my son lifted three year old Tina high with the star so she could place it just so! To see the look of sheer joy on the little girl's face was a sight to touch one's heart. She jumped up and down with squeal of delight! There was a satisfied look on the faces of my three; knowing they were making a difference in this child's Christmas.
The next several days were spent hanging stockings on the mantle, keeping a cheerful fire going in the fireplace, baking and decorating cookies and shopping and wrapping presents. From the arrival until the departure of our guests, my children did everything they could to help Tina and her mom enjoy their visit. Not another word did I hear of wishing Dad were here for the holidays. One of mine said quietly to me, “After all, our dad will be coming home next summer and Tina's dad will never come home.” I wish I could believe as strongly as they, about the part of “Dad coming home next summer.”
Christmas Eve night I read from the Bible the story of the birth of Jesus; then recited “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” After Tina fell asleep, my three were permitted to be “Santa Claus.” Around midnight, I stepped outside for a few minutes to be alone with my thoughts. I looked up and drank in the beauty of the star-studded sky, complete with crescent moon. I wondered how things were in Vietnam with my helicopter pilot. Then I realized it was about twelve hours later there on Christmas Day and hopefully, he was having something hot to eat. I gave a thankful prayer for the blessed joy our visitors had brought and how their visit had changed my holidays. As I slowly made my way back inside, I imagined I heard the age-old echo, “Peace on Earth; Good Will toward men.”