Keeping Christmas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Henry Van Dyke
There is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day,
and that is, keeping Christmas.
Are you willing…
to forget what you have done for other people,
and to remember what other people have done for you;
to ignore what the world owes you,
and to think what you owe the world;
to put your rights in the background,
and your duties in the middle distance,
and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground;
to see that men and women are just as real as you are,
and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy;
to own up to the fact that probably the only good reason
for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life,
but what you are going to give to life;
to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe,
and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds
of happiness—
Are you willing to do these things even for a day?
Then you can keep Christmas.
Are you willing to stoop down and consider
the needs and desires of little children;
to remember the weakness and loneliness of people growing old;
to stop asking how much your friends love you,
and ask yourself whether you love them enough;
to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear in their hearts;
to try to understand what those who live in the same home with you
really want, without waiting for them to tell you;
to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke,
and to carry it in front so that your shadow will fall behind you;
to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings
with the gate open—
Are you willing to do these things, even for a day?
Then you can keep Christmas.
Are you willing to believe that love is the strongest thing in the world—
stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than death—
and that the blessed life which began in Bethlehem nineteen hundred years ago
is the image and brightness of the Eternal Love?
Then you can keep Christmas.
And if you can keep it for a day, why not always? But you can never keep it alone.
Six Days of the Week,
NY: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1924 and 1952.
A Candy Maker’s Witness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Anonymous
A candy maker in Indiana wanted to make a candy that would be a witness, so he made the Christmas Candy Cane. He incorporated several symbols for the birth, ministry, and death of Jesus Christ.
He began with a stick of pure white hard candy. White to symbolize the Virgin Birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the Solid Rock, the foundation of the Church, and firmness of the promises of God.
The candy maker made the candy in the form of a "J" to represent the precious name of Jesus, who came to earth as our Savior. It could also represent the staff of the "Good Shepherd" with which He reaches down into the ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone astray.
Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candy maker stained it with red stripes. He used three small stripes to show the stripes of the scourging Jesus received by which we are healed. The large red stripe was for the blood shed by Christ on the Cross so that we could have the promise of eternal life.
Unfortunately, the candy became known as a candy cane—a meaningless decoration seen at Christmas time. But the meaning is still there for those who "have eyes to see and ears to hear." I pray that this symbol will again be used to witness to the wonder of Jesus and his great love that came down at Christmas and remains the ultimate and dominate force in the universe today.
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