A Wonderful Christmas Surprise

I didn't want to interrupt the order of the Advent Devotional I have been posting daily, but something so lovely happened today, and I want to write it before I forget the details.

Ben Shepherd, the pastor of the new church I now serve, his wife Alice, and I were invited to join one of the Sunday School classes for "tea and dinner," in a nearby town, celebrating Christmas. I didn't know what to expect, but I looked forward to meeting new friends, so of course I accepted.

Moments before we were to leave, someone said, "Look out the window!"
Snow! Great white flakes were pouring from the sky, thick and fluffy, actually obscuring vision at a distance.

We wondered if our trip would be cancelled. A quick phone call assured us it was still on, so we bundled up and joined the caravan at the church. As we drove the snow fell heavier and heavier, beginning to coat the trees and the sides of the roadway. It's been so long since I have lived in snow country that I would have been insecure had I been driving, but I felt absolutely confortable with our experienced Ben, so I just settled snugly in the back seat.

After about an hour's drive and diminishing snow, we turned into the parking area of an old, one room, white board church. The entire picture took my breath away. Tall candles carefully mounted on green wreaths that hung from the ceiling seemed to invite us inside. A Scotsman, handsome in his kilt, piped carols just outside the entry, and beautiful ladies in hoop skirted dresses invited us to sign the guest book.

Through the old doorway, we stepped into another time, a setting of early America, complete with the smell of spiced tea and shortbread cookies. The sanctuary was aglow with candles everywhere--some tiny tapers and others tall and slender. In the front of the church a huge tree. with an antique quilt for its underskirt, had been placed to the left of the altar. It was decorated with hand made ornaments from another time. Slices of dried fruit hung from ribbons; tiny balls of cotton were tucked into the branches; a huge hornet's nest was tucked deep inside the limbs; pine cones added here and there gave off an aroma from their previous homes. Under the tree were fruit and nuts beautifully arranged in old ice cream churns, bowls, a cream churn, and baskets. On the floor among the fruit were turtle shells whose occupants had long ago abandoned them.

To the right of the altar, several accomplished musicians brought forth from their instruments--two flutes, a violin, a cello, a Celtic harp, an autoharp, and another instrument that I couldn't identify, lying flat and played with strange-shaped bows--soul settling music, familiar hymns of Christmas.

Pe0ple continued to pour quietly into the small sanctuary, filling all the hard wooden benches and choosing to stand in the back when no more seats were to be had. After about thirty minutes of beautiful music that literally pulled from my being any stress I may have carried into the room, a man stood and read the familiar Christmas story from Luke 2. Two pastors--one old with a full head of white hair and a full white beard, and the other young, looking often at his six-year old daughter--spoke to us of the real meaning of Christmas, followed with their invitation to all to participate in Holy Communion.

I returned to my wooden bench on which I would never have chosen to sit for an hour but which was absolutely perfect for the moment. The snow had begun to fall again--great white flakes falling thick and fast outside the tall windows. I sat so still. I didn't want to interrupt the unexpected and wonderful peace that had settled over my entire being.

As others moved quietly back to their seats, I felt the tears spilling onto my cheeks. God was so real I wanted to freeze the moment.

Whatever else this holiday holds, this unexpected and wonderful afternoon was my Christmas present from God.