Wrapped in Love

And so I want to read to you the story that's often read.

When we get together with our family, I torture them, but that tell them that

I'm going to read the story of Jesus, story about Jesus.

And I started Genesis 1, figuring, you know, the book of the Bible is the whole

story of Jesus anyway, but then I don't really read it all.

Luke chapter 2, in those days, Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census

Luke 2 · chapter mention

should be taken of the entire Roman world.

This was the first census that was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria,

and everyone went to their own town to register.

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea,

to Bethlehem, the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.

He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him,

and was expecting a child.

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,

and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.

She wrapped him in cloths and placed

him in a manger because there was no guest room for them in the inn.

So Sarah hurried to get her children fed and dressed.

It was a cold December day and they had a long way to walk.

Sarah cleaned houses for a living five days a week.

It was the only work she could find that would allow her to also take care of

her three small girls at the same time.

She would drop the older two off at the elementary school and take three-year-old Becky with her.

The girls came to her for lunch, and she would be back home again before they

were home from school in the afternoon.

It was a good arrangement, and it kept her off of welfare. She wanted help from

no one. She wanted to do it by herself. herself.

Becky, she called, the youngest one.

Hurry, we're all ready to go. Becky ran to the door, a ragged doll with all

of its hair loved off, cradled in her arms.

I'm all ready, Mommy, but we forgot to dress Charlie.

Sarah glanced at the clock and backed down on her daughter's smiling face.

Quickly, she dressed the doll, wrapped it in its blanket, and handed it back back to Becky.

Then the little family went out into the cold, dark, early morning.

Mama, Laura, age seven, and the oldest one, took Sarah's hand.

I'm sorry, I forgot about Charlie.

Are we awfully late? No, Laura, we're not awfully late.

I don't know why we have to dress that stupid little doll of hers anyway, complained Cindy.

Since she was six and in the first grade, she thought of herself as being all

grown up, and to her, Charlie was a big waste of time.

Two years ago, Sarah might have agreed with her. They had been well off then and wanted for nothing.

One day, everything was fine, and the next day, her husband was gone.

All he had left behind was a wife, three small girls, and an empty bank account.

As soon as the shock had worn off, Sarah tried to start a new life,

but it was very hard. She had never had to work outside the home before.

Now she was cleaning houses to keep the kids fed.

Their clothes were handed down from her

employer's children most of all she regretted

having to walk them so far every day especially in

the cold as for the radical change in lifestyle the girls had just accepted

it as part of life laura and cindy helped as much as they could and tried not

to complain becky found happiness in her doll charlie charlie was her whole

world she never quit smiling as long as she had Charlie.

He was always to be dressed for the weather and then wrapped in the precious blanket.

The precious blanket was just an old scrap of a blanket that somebody had dropped in a parking lot.

Becky had found it, Sarah had washed it, and now it was Charlie's.

Was Charlie a waste of time?

No, Sarah decided he was Becky's happiness, and that most certainly certainly, was not a waste of time.

As they neared the school, the girls hugged Sarah as they always did day after day, then ran inside.

Farther down the street, Sarah turned in at the Littles. Mondays was Littles' home.

The Littles had been getting ready for Christmas, it seemed,

because there was a wreath on the door with a big red bow.

Sarah was prepared to see all the fancy see trimmings inside, but Becky wasn't.

Oh, Charlie, she whispered, if afraid that her voice might disturb the splendor.

Isn't it beautiful? Look at what Mrs. Little got.

The room was perfectly decorated for Christmas, and in the corner of the room

stood a huge Christmas tree, the silver star shining on the top almost touched the ceiling.

Glass ornaments, garlands, and all of the trappings of a wealthy home were decorated around the tree.

Sarah took Becky's coat off and hung it up. The little girl just stood there looking at the tree.

Becky, I have things to do, so just promise me that you won't touch anything.

I promised Mama, and she crawled into a big easy chair and stayed there all

morning long, pointing out the pretty ornaments to Charlie and guessing what

might be in each of the presents.

Laura and Cindy came in at lunch, but they hardly looked at the tree. It hurt to look at it.

They knew that there would never be a tree for them in their own home.

Money was not to be spent on anything that you could do without.

They knew it, but it still hurt.

The day replayed itself on Tuesday at the Johnson's, and Wednesday at the Harris's,

on Thursday at the Krebs, and on Friday at the Fisher's, but on Saturday they were home.

After spending a week in the various homes, all decked in their glorious holiday

splendor, Becky suddenly seemed to realize that she was missing out on something.

Why does everyone have a tree in their house, Mommy? Tommy, why are there so many presents?

Is it somebody's birthday?

Why don't we have a tree? Sarah had known the question would be asked sooner or later.

Laura and Cindy looked up from the floor where they were playing, waiting for her answer.

Sarah put away her mending and picked Laura up and put Becky up onto her lap.

You're a very smart girl, Becky.

It is somebody's birthday. and I'll tell you all about him. His name is Jesus

and he was born on Christmas day.

He's the son of God and she began to tell him how it all came about and why there is a Christmas.

Becky hugged Charlie close. Oh, the poor baby. Was it cold in the stable?

I wouldn't want to sleep in a stable, would you?

I wish I could go there and see it though. We can see it, Sarah said.

Said, girls, get your coats on. Let's go see.

Down the street was a church. Every Christmas, a large nativity scene was set up.

There was a wooden stable full of straw and large ceramic figures.

High above hung a star. The girls were amazed and awed by this simple but beautiful scene.

It was just as Sarah had said it was from the story in the Bible.

Becky didn't even want to to leave when the cold seemed to seep in through their

clothing and made her shiver. She just wanted to stay there.

The next week was just as hard for them.

Everywhere they looked, it seemed the world was taunting them with a Christmas

that wasn't to be had by them.

As Sarah picked out economy packs of socks and underwear for the girls' gifts.

She tried not to look in the other carts. At the grocery store,

she whipped through the express line with her one lone pack of spaghetti for

their Christmas dinner.

She laughed at the long lineups of people with their carts full of turkey and

fixings, but it really hurt.

The laugh was hollow because she would have loved to be one of those standing

in the line. Outside, families shouted and laughed as they picked out what each

considered the perfect tree and then strapped it onto the roof of their car.

Sarah tried not to notice it.

It was Laura and Cindy who finally made her heart well over with bitterness.

Somehow, when you are an adult, you can take whatever is dished out,

you can take things in stride and make the best of it, but when your child is

hurting, nothing hurts a mother more than the sorrow of her own child.

The school was focused on Christmas, which was only to be expected in December.

Everything was about Christmas. The teachers had the children making ornaments

and stringing popcorn for their trees at home.

They wrote letters to Santa. At recess, the children told of the gifts they

were expecting. Laura and Cindy, however, said nothing.

They did as they were expected in class and tried to avoid the other children at recess.

It was at home that they expressed their hurt and anger at the world.

For leaving them out of Christmas.

So the bitterness grew in Sarah from the heartache of her girls.

Every carol and decoration seemed to make her colder.

Every Christmas card or call of Merry Christmas made her hate the season more.

Laura and Cindy, taking the cue from their mother, as children often do,

developed the same attitude.

Only little Becky was immune. She rocked Charlie in her arms and told him again

and again about baby Jesus who was born in a stable.

She begged the girls daily to take her to the church so she could see the story for true.

They would take her grudgingly and drag her back home long before she was finished

looking. Christmas morning came in a flurry of snow.

Laura and Cindy woke up cold. They ran into Sarah's room and burrowed under

the covers with her to warm up.

Sarah cuddled them close and kissed their foreheads. Merry Christmas,

"'Merry Christmas, Mama,' they said.

"'Girls, I'm afraid there aren't very many gifts for you, but you go and wake

up Becky, and you can open what there is,' Sarah said resignedly.

The girls jumped out of bed and ran to get their sister while Sarah got up and

dressed. Too soon they were back.

"'Where's Becky, Mama? Where is she? We can't find her.' "'Parents.'.

The words hit her like a truck. Where was Becky?

The three raced through the home, calling her name, checking every closet and

every corner. They checked the yard and the neighbor's yard. No Becky.

They must have missed her when they checked the house earlier,

Sarah thought, and she never goes off alone.

They searched the house again, wondering if she was hiding in closets.

Then they noticed Charlie.

Charlie was carefully positioned in a chair facing the window. window.

Sarah's heart raced with the thoughts because Charlie was never out of Becky's sight.

And where was his blanket? Becky always insisted that his blanket be wrapped around him at all times.

Suddenly she knew. Girls, stay here.

Down the street she ran until she could see the church. Then she slowed and

tears of release ran down her face as she saw her little daughter, Becky. Becky.

The star from the nativity scene was shining down on the major where Becky had

climbed up into and was busily covering the baby Jesus with the ratty of the blanket.

And as she nears, Sarah could hear her talking.

She heard her say, you must be cold. I knew

the snow would be falling as as it did

on you jesus this is charlie's blanket but we'll give it to you he has me to

keep him warm she looked up when she heard the footsteps oh hi mommy becky smiled

with beautiful innocent smile i was afraid he might have thought that we had

forgotten him on his own birthday,

sarah plucked her up out of the straw and held her tight the tears now raining

unchecked i did forget honey dear lord i'm sorry i forgot and then she tenderly

carried her daughter home,

leaving the blanket behind on jesus filled with

christmas joy with christmas carols to cheer them up they hung the popcorn strings

and ornaments on the tallest one of sarah's house plants a star made out of

tinfoil perched on top they put the presents underneath and there was just enough

room to fit nicely under the tree.

And best of all, Sarah made a birthday cake.

With her hands joined around the table, they all sang, happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday, dear Jesus.

Happy birthday to you. As for Charlie, cradled tightly in Becky's arms.

Even without his blanket, he was warm. Why did I read that story?

Too often times we forget what what Christmas is all about.

We forget that it is God that came to be with us, and we get caught up in all

the trappings of Christmas while this little girl knew that Christmas was all about love.

Sometimes we relegate Christmas to a few minutes on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning.

We do all of the decorations and we do all the preparation for it,

but the celebration is just kind of, we do it every year, so it's just what

we do. It's a tradition. It's a routine.

Oftentimes we give Jesus the last place in our mind. I wonder for you what that blanket might be.

I trust that it would be a blanket of gratitude, a blanket of wholehearted service,

a blanket of complete obedience to Jesus, a blanket of grace that covers us

and covers others, a blanket of love that's shared with everyone around us,

and yes, a blanket of praise that celebrates the Christ child.

Heavenly Father, as we come into this closing time, as we hear the special song sung, O Holy Night,

and as we begin to light the candles and then sing carols ourselves,

Father, we ask that you would help us not to forget the real meaning of Christmas.

And in our own special way, we ask that you would help us to lay the blanket,

of gratitude, of love, of grace, of praise, of service, of obedience,

not on Jesus, but at the feet of Jesus.

In Jesus' name, amen.