Once Upon a Christmas Eve by Cynthia Helton

Emmanuel

(Breviary, O Antiphons)

“You have come near, God-with-us.

Not only made your home among us,

You have come to dwell within us.

Making of our heart a habitat of divinity.”

Once upon a Christmas Eve in a land far, far away (about 35 miles from my home)… I saw God!

It started out like many of our traditional Christmas Eve gatherings. We had our usual assortment of aunts and uncles and cousins and a healthy smattering of friends who may not share our “blood line” but who nevertheless belong with us - and to us. Our clan had grown seemingly overnight, with several of us elevated to “greatness,” as in great-grandmother and great-aunt.

The children showed off their children, who in turn showed of their new husbands and boyfriends. Babies bounced from lap to lap and toddlers were given free reign to explore.

Little boys who were just children a minute ago somehow became teenagers when we weren’t looking. Little girls who once huddled together in their own cliques away from the adults were now adults themselves, sharing stories of their careers and goals, their successes and struggles, seeing each other with the new eyes of maturity. And, of course, a “new crop of little girls was waiting in the wings to take up where the now 20-somethings cousins left off.”

We had other guests that year as well; uninvited guests who profoundly made their presence known. Illness, absence, traumatic events, our limited mortality sat right down at the table as if they belonged. You know you can’t avoid these “party crashers,” so you may as well scoot over and make room for them.

They are, after all, the harbingers of what the circle brings - life, death, then life again as we make our way through. They can truly be harsh; but as strange as it may sound, for once I saw that they had brought an incredibly special gift to them.

Their “present” was the present … a clear understanding of how now - in this present moment - we have the chance to hug and kiss and laugh and joke and eat and drink together, knowing full well we won’t look the same next year. It’s not because we don’t want to, but because it just doesn’t work that way. We can never re-create the special moments of right now.

Nothing stays in freeze-frame except photographs.

Life will undulate; its pitch will increase and decrease without care for what we want - how much we want things to stay the way they are and never change.

Perhaps it’s my age. Perhaps it’s because I am further down the road, which gives one a unique perspective (if one “chooses” to see). I realized that as I embraced my family, both in welcome and then in goodbye, it was actually “God” hugging me. it was God’s warmth radiating to me and through me, extending to such a depth of love that it had to be a much more numinous exchange than I could ever conjure up on my own.

Yes, that was surely Emmanuel, “God-with-us,” that Christmas Eve. That was surely what the holiday is all about - what all the church services, Christmas carols, nativity scenes, and other gestures of affection try to convey - but so often miss the mark.

Recognizing the present in the present is surely the only way we can ever end the story with “… and they all lived happily ever after.”

Cynthia is passionate about receiving life’s energy by engaging the world through her senses. Throughout her life, she has been committed to bringing that energy forward and manifesting it through her love of nature, travel, poetry, art, writing and cooking.

In May 2014, she joined the Community of Aidan and Hilda. Being a part of a dispersed ecumenical community with members in many parts of the world was an important step for Cynthia. It helped fulfill her dedication to live simple lives of resilient happiness.

Her dream isto open a retreat center that is a sanctuary for spiritual seekers, artists, writers and musicians …and perhaps American expats who need a bridge to a kinder, gentler life. Creator gave it a name on June 30, 2018: Lantern House. Let us help you find your lantern and let your light shine as a beacon to the world.

This reflection was originally published in House of Light, a book in the Retreat House House of series. You can purchase a copy here.