I’ve spent two
Christmases away from home. The first time I was 33 years old and receiving
chemotherapy in an isolation room in Houston’s M. D. Anderson hospital. My husband Michael
was home with our four young children, and my dad flew to Houston, courtesy of Anne and Emile Bergeron,
to spend Christmas Day with me. No one knew he didn’t have the money for a
hotel, so thankfully his plan to sleep on the sofa in the hospital’s lobby
worked out. We spent Christmas Day visiting through the glass window that
sealed me in a sterile environment. I know, I know, so far it sounds sad, but
hang on, it really wasn’t.
We
talked, laughed, prayed, and paused as I received Christmas calls from far
too many people to name. While on the phone, I watched as he either read the
Bible or ate from the cookie-filled shoe box that a friend had dropped off.
Although we were without the comforts of home, or the company of family and
friends, we had a really great day. It was so very peaceful. I wasn’t
depressed, angry, or visited by self-pity. I was alive. My family was healthy
and safe, and I was secure in the knowledge of God’s infinite love and His
ability to perform the miraculous.
The
second time I spent Christmas outside of Louisiana
was a little farther north. At the time, my daughter Elise was twelve years old
and dreamed to walk the crowded streets of New York City. She had never dreamed of
becoming ill. How odd that a dreaded disease would somehow give way to the
fulfillment of a dream.
After
bravely enduring chemotherapy treatment for lymphoma, she was contacted by the Make
A Wish Foundation which grants wishes to children diagnosed with life-threatening
illnesses. When she shared her wish to visit New York, her father suggested Disney World
instead. “Daddy,” she replied, “I’ve been there, and that’s a place you and Mom
will take us again. I don’t think you’ll ever plan a trip to New York.” (Besides being brave, Elise was
also very wise.)
Although
we tried to imagine what it would be like, none of us were prepared for the
actual adventure of New York City
at Christmastime. We toured the city and marveled at the sights we had only
seen in pictures and on television. As we walked to view the tree at Rockefeller Center, the young man on the side of us
dropped to one knee and proposed to his very excited girlfriend. We went to the
top of the Empire State Building,
visited Central Park, Times Square, Fifth Avenue, saw a
Broadway play, and didn’t let the freezing rain stop us from running around the
Statue of Liberty. We were excited and determined to do and see as much as we
could, but were unprepared for the emotions we felt as we stood at Ground Zero and
re-lived the September 11th tragedy.
On
Christmas Day, we sat very near to the front of the stage at Radio City Music
Hall and watched the Christmas Spectacular, a show beyond our expectations,
especially the conclusion with the dramatic living Nativity scene. As we exited
Radio City Music Hall,
it began to snow. Elise walked ahead of
us, confidently navigating the crowd. Although I couldn’t speak, my heart
exploded as I watched my daughter experience her dream of
walking the crowded streets of New York City, and I thanked God that my wish,
my prayer, my daily plea for her life, had also been granted.
This
Christmas will be spent at home, with lots of people and presents and food.
However, in the midst of all the activity, my heart will beat with the rhythms
of peace, faith and gratitude that I learned through my two out-of-town
Christmas experiences.
No
matter where we are, or who we’re with, Christmas Day and every day, may
we be found utterly dependent upon, and thoroughly grateful to our God Who "so
loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him
shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16
Ronny may be reached
at rmichel@rtconline.com
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