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Bethlehem
".Come on, let's go to Bethlehem! Let's see this wonderful thing that has happened, which the Lord told us about."
Luke 2:15 (NLT)
Many times during the Christmas season my three year old granddaughter, Mary Kathryn, said to me, "Grandma, tell me the story of Bethlehem. Tell me the whole story of Bethlehem." She never tired of hearing about an angel appearing to Mary, proclaiming that she was going to have a son and his name was to be Jesus.
So, with the Bible or her picture book that played Christmas carols, I read or 'told' her again and again about Jesus birth in Bethlehem. From a figurine that depicted the town of Bethlehem complete with manger scene, Mary Kathryn loved to see the lights in the buildings and listen to the music as we repeated the story of Bethlehem one more time.
Seemingly absorbing the details, I described to Mary Kathryn how Joseph and Mary made a journey from their home in Nazareth to Bethlehem so Joseph could pay his taxes. Baby Jesus being born in a stable because there was no room for them in the village inn would almost make her cry.
Her eyes would light up when I talked about an angel notifying the shepherds out in the fields about a Savior, Jesus Christ, being born in Bethlehem that night. It pleased her that this was good news of great joy for everyone. The highlight of the story always was the angels from heaven breaking forth in song and praising God.
Although at that young age Mary Kathryn's picture of Jesus was a baby in a manger, I knew it must not be her last. Soon, I would share with her how that tiny helpless baby lying in a manger in Bethlehem grew up to die on the cross for our sins. I would tell her he arose from the grave and ascended into heaven and will return to this earth as King of kings. Mary Kathryn would someday understand that baby Jesus, as she knew Him, lived a remarkable life and desires to be her Lord of Lords too.
But, for that time in the life of my very young granddaughter it was all about Bethlehem! And I loved sharing the story over and over with her.
Melva Cooper
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, And etched on vacant places Are half-forgotten faces Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know.
--Ella Wheeler Wilcox
The tradition of Christmas lights dates back to when Christians were persecuted for saying Mass. A simple candle in the window meant that Mass would be celebrated there that night.
