A Happy Gift
This morning, my wife and I watched some Christmas videos.
This is our custom every year, and we have already watched many of these one or more times in the previous week.
But this morning, we sensed something changed in the spirit we felt as we watched and listened. The feeling was more quiet and peaceful than earlier in the week. Even reverent.
Isn’t it interesting how the spirit of Christmas seeps in little by little until it is there in your heart and soul? I am fascinated and grateful for this same experience repeated every year.
Well, my wife is going out to fill the feeders in the yard to nourish our feathered winter friends, and I have a few minutes to spend at the computer.
That means it must be time to post the following story. After all, it is officially Christmas Eve in the Philippines, where the story takes place.
I share it with you now as the quiet spirit of the next few days settles in.
Here is the story.
Christmas Eve 1974 found me along the eastern shore of the Philippine island of Leyte between the cities of Tacloban and Palo.
Seven months into a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day, this was my first Christmas ever away from home.
The pangs of homesickness had been seeping up from the bowels of my soul, though I actively did my best to choke the feelings back down.
I was losing the emotional battle.
Due to meager financial means, there was no expectation of giving or receiving material gifts among the gentle souls we served.
Decorated fir trees or sumptuous meals would remain a distant memory.
Instead of familiar evergreens and snow, the warm tropical climate and coconut palm trees felt out of place.
And due to limited communications of the day, there would be no calling home to hear my mom’s voice, my dad’s calming assurance, or my dog Happy, my constant sixty-plus pound German Shorthaired Pointer companion for over ten years, barking in the background.
The sensory overload of the environment heightened an emotional sense of being lost and alone. I might as well have been on Mars.
In this part of the world, it seemed Christmas was destined to be just another day.
My companion and I walked among the scattered elevated single-room huts constructed of bamboo and nipa palm leaves.
The clucking of chickens and the oink of pigs corralled on the ground beneath the nipa hut housing added unique depth to the sounds of early Christmas Eve.
Maligay ang Pasko
Backlit by the warm light of small single-wick oil lamps within, beautiful, bright-eyed faces animated with loving smiles appeared in the open windows and doors of each residence we passed by.
Every occupant waved and offered an enthusiastic, “Maligay ang Pasko!”
The meaning of the phrase in English is “happy gift,” a Filipino greeting for “Merry Christmas.”
As the greetings echoed into the night through the dense stands of coconut trees, the idea of a “happy gift” struck me as odd since there were no material presents to be given or received.
But I was learning. There are gifts to share that are far more valuable than any material item.
Time passed into the late evening. My companion and I strolled from hut to hut, visiting and exchanging simple Christmas greetings with the beautiful people.
The same spirit that accompanied Christmas Eve back home began to seep slowly into my soul.
A waxing gibbous moon and billions of twinkling stars provided enough meager light to negotiate our path in the dark of night. Fireflies danced within the trees as living decorations while tropical floral fragrances floated on the ocean's moist, onshore breeze, offering some relief from the earlier heat of the day.
I sensed a change in temperament from the mundane to positive anticipation.
A Holy Night
My companion and I began to share a quiet state of unspoken reverence. Our senses perked up another notch when we perceived a barely audible yet pleasant sound still far off, resonating through the trees.
We stopped walking and listened intently, cocking our heads. Was that singing we heard?
Yes, it was singing, beautiful angelic singing!
After a few moments, we could hear the chorus approaching, becoming louder and more defined.
Recognition set in. “O Holy Night.” That was the tune!
Mesmerized, we watched a steady string of lit candles meandering through the coconut palm trees, drawing closer as the hymn of praise and gratitude pierced the night like the ringing of pure crystal, a sincere offering to the Most High.
Soon, the bright-eyed, joyful candle-bearing carolers were among us, past by one by one, and then vanished single file into the night, singing their sacred hymn.
Amidst that backdrop of a sublime tropical environment, I knew this beautiful country and its humble people had blessed me with a very welcome, precious, big “happy gift.”
Unlike ever before, I felt the unmistakable Spirit of Mas Christ to my core.
With absolute clarity, I knew I was walking among members of my eternal family whom I had known before in the premortal realm.
I was home for Christmas.
It was the perfect moment and a priceless gift from my Filipino family — a holy night.
Maligay ang Pasko!
Russell Anderson