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Every year on Christmas day, the Thompson Publishing Company, where my husband Michael works as senior editor, sponsors a whole day Christmas celebration for orphans and refugees.The employees and their families always eagerly anticipate this annual activity. It is usually held at the nearby park. There are fun rides, games, singing, dancing, and lots of goodies for the youngsters to enjoy. The occasion is both heartwarming and memorable. Our nine-year-old daughter Sarah has been joining the celebration since she was a baby. She is excited about the event because of the many friends she had made. The number of attendees increases each year. Today we are expecting 500 kids.
While we were having our Christmas eve dinner last night, Mr. Thompson called up. He asked Michael to come to the office early for an urgent meeting. He sounded worried but I hoped nothing was seriously wrong.
Now, here I am at 8:30 this Christmas morning, parked in front of the publishing house. Michael told me to drive over and wait for him at the car. His meeting with Mr. Thompson started at 7 AM. I am wondering what is taking them so long. Sarah is catching up with sleep at the backseat of the car because she had stayed up late for Christmas eve. A Christmas carol is softly playing over the car radio. It is chilly and still a bit dark outside. The buses Michael rented a week ago are already at the parking lot. In a few minutes, they will be picking up the children for the party. The streets are deserted except for a car passing by. In the middle of the patch at the side of the building, a giant Christmas tree brilliantly shines with its flickering lights. I can see a faint glimmer of a star in the sky. The outline of the moon is fading. It's such a beautiful Christmas morning.
Michael is now coming out of the building and walking toward the car. I notice the grave look on his face. Mr. Thompson is standing near the entrance door also looking grim. My heart starts to beat fast. What is the matter? As Michael enters the car, he speaks in a low voice so as not to wake up Sarah, "We are canceling today's party. The company cannot afford it anymore. The donors did not send their contributions". "Oh, no!", I whisper in shock. "What about the children? They have been waiting for this. Perhaps we can do something." Michael shakes his head. "We couldn't convince Mr. Thompson. We have ran out of options. Sarah will be disappointed." Yes, our dear Sarah will be very sad about the news. For the past few weeks before Christmas, she had been busy preparing many surprises for the children.
Suddenly, a little girl, maybe 6 or 7 years old, appears by the window of the car. She presses her nose against the glass and starts to knock. She is very skinny, her clothes tattered, and her shoes worn-out. Poor little girl! She must be freezing! As I open the car door to let the child in, Sarah wakes up. She immediately sees the little girl. Before Michael and I can utter a word, Sarah says, "Hello! You are very early for the party. That means you're my first new friend today. You must be feeling cold. Here, wear my coat." Sarah removes her coat and puts it around the little girl. The little girl thanks Sarah. Then, to our surprise, Sarah takes out her new favorite barbie doll from the box and gives it to the little girl. "You can have this. It's my Christmas gift to you. I hope you like it."
Mr. Thompson had seen what Sarah did. He approaches us, smiles and says, "It looks like Sarah has been learning some great lessons about giving. It made me realize how important this yearly children's Christmas party must be in teaching all of us about loving and sharing. So Michael, if you're ready, let's get this party going."
Praise Jesus! What a glorious testimony by Sarah!
Watching my daughter happily playing with her new friend reminds me of Matthew 19:14: "Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." I thank God for our dear little angel.
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