My Christmas Miracle

Maybe it’s the tree, the lights, or the smell of pine.

Maybe it’s the commercials playing “I’ll be home for Christmas.”

Maybe it’s George Bailey’s redemption or Clarence getting his wings.

All of these trigger memories of past Christmases, memories that lay dormant for most of the year but awaken during this festive season.

A couple of decades ago while sitting around my family room surrounded by the sights, sounds, and smells of Christmas, I was reminiscing about Christmases past. My parents had been gone for years but I still missed them. Though I was the parent of three teenage children myself, a feeling of aloneness just sort of ambushed me as I sat there. I thought about my parents from time to time and wondered if they were okay, but this was different. I really missed them. I missed our Christmases together. And even though my Christmas that year was full of love and joy, this hole in my life—this loss—was speaking to me.

Strangely, a couple of days later, a letter arrived in my mailbox that was addressed to my mother. I had been the executor of her estate, but that settled years ago. Since then, I had moved and changed addresses. There was no way the sender of the letter would have my current address. And to attach her name to my address? That was beyond puzzling. The letter came from a mission that she used to donate to.

I remembered her talking about the charity. Nothing special. She sent them a small donation whenever she had a little extra money. The envelope held a prayer card and a note. No appeal for money. No picture of a starving child in a third-world country. Simply, a prayer card and a  Christmas greeting. On the front of the card, the ascendant Jesus was standing in clouds, staring at the light above Him. On the back of the card, was this prayer, Safely Home.

I am home in Heaven, dear ones, Oh, so happy and so bright, There is perfect joy and beauty, In this everlasting light. 

All the pain and grief is over, Every restless tossing passed, I am now at peace forever, Safely home in Heaven at last.

Did you wonder I so calmly, Trod the valley of the shade? Oh! but Jesus’ love illumined, Every dark and fearful glade. 

And He came Himself to meet me In that way so hard to tread, And with Jesus’ arm to lean on, Could I have one doubt or dread.

Then you must not grieve so sorely, For I love you dearly still, Try to look beyond earth’s shadows, Pray to trust our Father’s Will. 

There is work still waiting for you, So you must not idly stand; Do it now, while life remaineth, You shall rest in Jesus’ land.

When that work is all completed, He will gently call you Home, Oh, the rapture of that meeting, Oh, the joy to see you come.

I read this a couple of times. Put it down. Read it again. I smiled through the tears and was at peace. My mother was reaching out to me from the other side, telling me that she was fine and that all was good. I told our parish priest about this, he smiled and said, “That’s a confirmation.” No more wondering for me.

That Christmas miracle has sustained me for years. I still have the card. I take it out every once in a while. This year, I will place it on the mantle and feel whole again.