CowPi Journal

There once was a shining Christmas tree
Standing out where all could see.
Its brilliance captured every eye
And seemed to cheer each passer by.

“The lights are so bright,” they would say
And hesitate to walk away.
The tree stood proud ablaze with light
For every light was burning bright.

Then one bulb was heard to say
“I’m tired of burning night and day;
I think I’ll just go out and take a rest
For I’m too tired to do my best;

Besides I am so very small
I doubt if I’d be missed at all.”
Then a child lovingly touched the light,
“Look, mother, this one shines so very bright.

I think of all the lights upon the tree
This one looks the best to me.”
“Oh my goodness,” said the light
“I almost dimmed right out of sight.

I thought perhaps no one would care
If I failed to shine my share.”
With that a glorious brilliance came
For every light had felt the same.

Our Gospel, like this Christmas tree,
With little lights which are you and me,
We each have a space that we must fill
With love, and lessons and good will.

Let’s keep our tree ablaze with light,
With testimonies burning bright.
For our Gospel is a living tree
That lights the way to eternity.

— Author Unknown

You cannot teach faith;
    you have to radiate faith.
You cannot tell others to hope;
    you have to radiate hope.
You cannot describe love;
    you have to radiate love.

You cannot give what you do not have.

You cannot radiate goodness
    unless you are filled with goodness.
You cannot radiate light
    unless you are filled with light
You cannot radiate peace
    unless you are filled with peace.
You cannot radiate mercy
    unless you are filled with mercy.

You cannot radiate Christ
    unless you are filled with Christ.

One must be emptied to be filled.
Humility is the secret the saints shout,
    because pride and selfishness
    leave no space to be filled.

You cannot give what you do not have.

Let God radiate through you.

I received this in an email this morning…

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 that I’d be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me that there would 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, on 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 letter 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. She was totally unaware that her letter “M” appeared as a “W”. The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little mistake. Because she had no idea that they were laughing at her, she stood there tall and proud holding her “W”. Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we saw it all together. A hush came over the audience, and eyes widened. In that moment, 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 still is…

— Candy Chand

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I’d like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You’ve been there you understand
It’s all part of a grander plan that is coming true

— Rascal Flatts