silent night

The earliest Christmas I remember was when I was five. We lived in Baltimore where my father was attending school. We lived in a row house on Pimlico Street, near the race track. The bedrooms were upstairs, mine was the one in the middle and had a skylight. How I loved that skylight! It seemed to be a window into the heavens and most nights I counted stars as I drifted into happy dreams. But not on that Christmas eve. I was very sick with an ear infection. Wisps of hair, damp with sweat, curled about my fevered face and if I drifted off to sleep it was only momentarily as pain roused me awake again. I stayed still and quiet so as not to wake the others sleeping in the next rooms. The hours dragged and I wondered if morning would ever come. The skylight was my friend and comfort during those quiet, ‘though not peaceful, hours. I studied the stars more carefully that night and let myself be carried away in my imagination to that “night of nights” when the Baby Jesus was born. Was I looking at His star through my skylight? Which one would it be? Certainly His would stand out; certainly His would be the brightest. It would be special enough for the wise men to notice and know that it was finally time to begin that long-awaited journey of a lifetime. I pondered the glorious multitude of angels whose music was most surely the finest human ears had ever heard. Did I get to hear it; could it be that I was singing with them? I thought of the humble shepherds, bewildered by it all but worthy of that distinct honor of being the first to meet their Savior. Would I be worthy? And then I thought of Mary and Joseph, so carefully chosen for their most important roles. What were they like; was there a special role in His kingdom for me?

Morning came and my fever broke. Although weak, I joined my family to open gifts and managed to eat a little, a rather anticlimactic day to follow the “silent, holy night” I had been privileged to experience. I don’t wish anyone illness during the holiday season, neither would I deny such an experience to you; perhaps there is a way to have one without the other. One silent, sleepless night to enjoy and forever remember the wonder that is our Savior’s birth. He is the reason we celebrate, but more than that, He makes living worth it, giving everything we do purpose and meaning, and making everything we are matter immensely.