Carols by Candlelight, 2002 (part 1)

I’ve not long arrived home from this year’s Carols by Candlelight. There are four Christian denominations in town, and each takes a turn of organising it for a year, and then the cycle repeats. It was our parish’s turn this year, which basically means I did most of the work: picking out which carols to sing, organising the local brass band to provide the musical accompaniment, asking some people to do a guest spot and sing a song, or recite a poem (or something similar), choosing a venue and making sure there is adequate sound and lighting, rubbish bins, toilets, and organising some people to provide supper for the band. It also mean I have to take the role of Master of Ceremonies and, not only introduce each carol or performer, but lead the singing. I don’t have a good voice, but I sing on key and my voice is loud! Finally, it means I have to present a Christmas message to the townspeople.

It was a very pleasant night, even with the hard work involved. Some said it was the best yet. I’m not sure about that, it was certainly the best for several years.

Here is my Christmas Message for this year’s Carols by Candlelight:

Back in 1994, two Americans were invited by the Russian Department of Education to teach morals and ethics in their prisons, at their businesses, fire and police departments and even at a large orphanage. They were also told they could teach from the perspective of their faith.

So they went — like John the Baptist to tell others of their faith. They believed that Jesus is the true light of the world and that they could bring light into the darkness of the people of Russia.

The experience of these two in the Russian orphanage proved to be particularly illuminating. According to one of them, “Will Fish” — the name of a real person, perhaps, or maybe a pseudonym for an anonymous Christian who is willing to “fish for people” — there were about 100 boys and girls in the orphanage, children who had been abandoned, abused and left in the care of a government-run programme. Fish tells the following story of what happened when the holiday season approached and it was time for the orphans to hear — for the first time — the story of Christmas.

“We told them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem”, says Fish. “Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger. Throughout the story, the children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every word.”

“Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger. Each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins I had brought with me. No coloured paper was available in the city. Following instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn-out nightgown an American lady was throwing away as she left Russia, were used for the baby’s blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt we had brought from the United States.”

“The orphans were busy assembling their mangers as I walked among them to see if they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little Misha sat — he looked to be about 6-years old and had finished his project. As I looked at the little boy’s manger, I was startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger.”

“Quickly, I called for the translator to ask the lad why there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of him and looking at his completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously. For such a young boy, who had heard the Christmas story only once, he related the happenings accurately — until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger.

“Then Misha started to ad lib. He made up his own ending to the story as he said, ‘And when Mary laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mamma and I have no papa, so I don’t have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with him. But I told him I couldn’t, because I didn’t have a gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, “If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?” And Jesus told me, “If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me.” So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could stay with him—for always.’

“As little Misha finished his story, his eyes brimmed full of tears. The little orphan had found someone who would never abandon nor abuse him, someone who would stay with him — for always.”