A Christmas Eve Prayer

The little altar had gone up alongside a street not far from my home sometime in the spring of 2009. I remember glancing over the article in the paper about a single car accident late one night. Two college-age young men were thrown from the car, the passenger died at the scene and the driver suffered serious, but survivable injuries. Out late partying, I don’t know if alcohol was a factor, not wearing seat belts, driving too fast; a momentary mistake and one young life ends tragically and the other must live the rest of his life with the memory that he is responsible for his friend’s death. According to the article the boy who died had been a local high school track star, played hockey and had just started his college studies at a local university.
As the weeks went by friends and family added to the growing altar. A large plastic-covered picture of the boy in his hockey jersey appeared. A wooden cross with his name and the two dates defining his short life inscribed on it was set into the ground. Then pair of track shoes painted gold were hung on the cross. A large rock with names and messages from friends was placed at its base. Over time flowers both real and artificial came and went. Stuffed teddy bears adorned the shrine. He obviously had meant much to many people. As the months turned into fall and winter approached the weather took its toll on the various items arranged around the altar. By Christmas Eve only the cross, bent somewhat by the wind and the rock remained as a reminder to his existence.
I was driving home from the bank about noon on Christmas Eve, mad at myself, mad at God, mad at the government, mad at the economy—and mad for being mad on Christmas Eve. The year 2009 had not been a good one financially. Our incomes were down, business revenue was down and debts were mounting. This at a time I was looking at having several teenagers approaching college soon. Repairs were desperately needed around the house and for the cars. In fact, one of the cars really needed to be replaced fairly soon. Trying to have a decent Christmas, buy food and pay bills were all weighing heavily on my shoulders on the eve of this the happiest day of the year. At that moment I passed the little altar on the side of the road and noticed a pick-up truck parked nearby. A middle-aged woman was bent over straightening out the cross and placing some fresh flowers around its base. No doubt his mother, contemplating her first Christmas without her son and the many Christmases yet to come without him and the children he might have had.
At that moment I was overtaken with a crystal clear revelation of life and Christmas that put my problems and anger into an appropriate perspective. The tears welled up in my eyes and came rolling out uncontrollably. I began to weep for this woman and her family and the loss they had suffered. I was also weeping for my pettiness over my perceived losses. Her loss was real and permanent while my losses were minor and fleeting. Compared to a life money has no real value, it is temporary, it comes and goes. It is something that with time and hard work you can replace many times over. Her son can never be replaced here on planet Earth. I said a silent prayer for the mother and her family, for peace and comfort in the hope of some day being reunited with the young man. I also said a prayer for me and my family, apologizing for my selfish attitude. I asked God for help in our present economic difficulties, but also asked him to help me keep a proper perspective on my life and family and our problems and blessings relative to real hurt and suffering in the world.
God has a way of finding just the right time and place and message for getting our attention to make a point right when we need it most. In our busy lives I think that we are sometimes waiting for a bright, loud magnificent proclamation from God to get our attention and speak into our lives. In doing so, we risk missing the many little whispers and subtle nudges of the Holy Spirit trying to steer us in the right direction. In the coming year I will certainly be working hard and praying hard to provide for my family and give as much to help the less fortunate in our midst as I possibly can. And I will also be praying that I never forget the sight of the woman bending over the little cross by the side of the road and what a profound message from God I heard that day.