Let the Little Children Come to Them...

I think tonight I found some Magi. The lessons are many. This story is about mercy. Hopefully it leads to justice. For now, we are learning mercy.

It was 6:00 and for no particular reason I decided that we needed to go drive around and look at Christmas lights in Langely. Never mind that no one wanted to come; we were going for a drive. Yes, we were tired and somewhat grumpy but nothing like being forced into a car against your will to look at Christmas lights to cheer you up. I was upset no one wanted to go; they were upset they had to go. In typical fashion, the kids got over the disappointment quicker than me as they were singing group Christmas carols five minutes into the drive. Me? I decided that the cheerful singing only made me grumpier. Sure, "Silent Night is Great", but what about the freaking lights?!

Thankfully for everyone, my heart softened as I could only keep up my Grinch impression for so long. Generally speaking, little children singing carols and reenacting "Charlie Brown Christmas" will break down any hard hearted wall a person puts up. On the way home we headed to McDonalds for some ice cream and I somehow managed to confuse the drive through person into giving us an extra sundae.

While I had already learned some lessons by this point about pride and stubborness, my education was just beginning.

Before we got home, we stopped at the drug store for some cough medicine. As I got out of the car, I discovered some spilled icecream in the back of the 'burb. Not a big deal but a minor frustration. I got out of the car and all my children followed me..."just because." So much for "get in, get out" and I muttered something like "we aren't going to buy anything..." on the way in (why do we generally always repeat our parents lines--the same line we promise we will never say to our children). As I'm looking for Children's Motrin (cue the one daugther who is learning to read--"Is this is? Is the red one it? Is it blue? I like grape? Hey, strawberry is pretty..." As I'm searching, my oldest daughter Anneke begins to ask "Dad, do you have any change?" I give her the "Okay, she who has an ear, let them hear" look, and continue to struggle to find the children't Motrin. I finally got it as daugther number two, who is fighting an addiction to summersaults and handstands, performs one for me in the aisle for all to see. As I begin to walk out, Anneke again asking for change. I stop and mutter something like (or exactly like) "Wasn't an ice cream good enough, do we have to buy something more." (Yes, it was as ridiclous as it sounds).

"Dad, I don't want to buy anything. Didn't you see the homeless guy out front with the sign?"

"Didn't I see the homeless guy? There was a homeless guy in front of the store?" I gulp. I credit myself for instantly thinking that my daughter wants to buy something else, that ice cream isn't good enough on a Saturday night. Besides, they didn't even want to come to begin with.

"Yeah, so I thought if you had some change I could give it to him."

Yup, I was as quiet as you think I should be at that point.

Why do children see homeless people? What did I see. What didn't I see. How much do you I usually miss?

Anneke goes to the car, gets some money, walks up to this guy as dad nervously observes (and isn't stupid enough to get in the way anymore). He says "Thank you, God bless you, and Merry Christmas." I have a "runny nose" and need to clean some dirt I have in my eyes.

We get home and the two oldest girls pull out bread, butter, cheese, chocolate, a blanket, a thermos, a pack of granola bars and some mandarin oranges. I know what is going on here. I'm not sure what to do. Actually I am. Once again, I stay out of the way. Bev fills the thermos with hot chocolate, the blanket and food is packed up nicely, and I am now instructed to buy cigarettes so he doesn't spend the money we give him on that. I am getting educated. He who has eyes, let him see. He who has a mouth, let him shut it. I buy the cigarettes.

On the way back to the drug store, I ask the girls if they are nervous (I am, and not sure why; probably because something is changing before my eyes). My daughter only says she really, really hopes he isn't gone. I'm not even sure what to think anymore.

We get back to the store, and he is there. I stay in the car. This is their moment. Their idea. When the girls get back in the car, one says "Thanks for taking us to the Christmas lights dad, we wouldn't have met him if we didn't go to the Christmas lights."

And I didn't even see him.