Are We Not All Beggars?

Pleading eyes follow my steps. A frozen body on a cold and rainy wet pavement. The paper cup in hand bears witness that there are no large donations given on this day. I put my hand in my pocket. I rarely have any cash but still manage to find a few coins. A friendly thank you and a smile meet my gaze. On the way out of the store, I leave a bar of chocolate and a few bananas. "Merry Christmas", he says. "Merry Christmas," I respond and move on, home to prepare for Christmas with food and gifts.

I wonder in my mind where the man I just met would spend Christmas. Is there perhaps a warm place even for him on a day like this? I wonder if the little I gave him will make any difference for the better. There are many who think that it won't. I know. And sometimes I wonder if I actually assist in cementing such people to the cold concrete with a paper cup in hand. Maybe such problems should be resolved at a higher level. But until the solutions to the big problems are more than just pretty words, pleading eyes remain on our streets with a hope for hand-outs that can make a difference in their lives.

It strikes me that regardless of status and position in life, we basically are all beggars. Are we not all dependent on the universe every day to bring us health, protection, work and good relations that we might be comfortable? Are we not all dependent on both the sun and the rain to give us life-growing power on the planet we share? Is there really any day you can wake up and take for granted that no tragedy or hardship might hit to you?

What guarantees do we have that the roles might not one day be reversed? That it might be you and I who sit with a paper cup in hand? Or maybe we are already there, that we are in fact more dependent on the mercy of the universe than the poor man on the street. That the lack of empathy might constitute the greatest condition of poverty of them all. For over two thousand years ago, a child was born into the world whose birth we celebrate today. If I in my weakness hesitate in how I deal with the man on the street, I can always think about how such individuals were met by the man who is the foundation to the Christmas message of peace on earth.

by Per M. Herrey

"For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind?"  (Mosiah 4:19, The Book of Mormon)

See also:
Are we not all beggars? by Jeffrey Holland

The Christmas Guest

It happened one day near December's end
Two neighbors called on an old friend
And they found his shop so meager and lean
Made gay with thousand bows of green

And Conrad was sitting with face a-shine

When he suddenly stopped as he stitched a twine

And he said, "Old friends, at dawn today
When the cock was crowing the night away

The Lord appeared in a dream to me"
And said, "I'm coming your guest to be"

So I've been busy with feet astir
Strewing my shop with branches of fern

The table is spread and the kettle is shined
And over the rafters the holly is twined

Now I'll wait for my Lord to appear
And listen closely so I will hear His step
As He nears my humble place.

And I'll open the door and look on His face

So his friends went home and left Conrad alone
For this was the happiest day he had known
For long since, his family had passed away
And Conrad had spent many a sad Christmas Day

But he knew with the Lord as his Christmas Guest
This Christmas would be the dearest and best

So he listened with only joy in his heart
And with every sound he would rise with a start
And look for the Lord to be at his door
Like the vision he had had a few hours before

So he ran to the window after hearing a sound
But all he could see on the snow covered ground

Was a shabby beggar whose shoes were torn
And all of his clothes were ragged and worn

But Conrad was touched and he went to the door
And he said, "You know, your feet must be frozen and sore
I have some shoes in my shop for you
And a coat that will keep you warmer too"

So with grateful heart the man went away
But Conrad noticed the time of day
And wondered what made the Lord so late
And how much longer he'd have to wait

When he heard a knock, he ran to the door
But it was only a stranger once more

A bent old lady with a shawl of black
With a bundle of kindling piled on her back
She asked for only a place to rest
But that was reserved for Conrad's Great Guest

But her voice seemed to plead "Don't send me away
Let me rest for awhile on Christmas Day"

So Conrad brewed her a steaming cup
And told her to sit at the table and sup

But after she left he was filled with dismay
For he saw that the hours were slipping away
And the Lord hadn't come as he said he would
And Conrad felt sure he had misunderstood

When out of the stillness he heard a cry
Please help me and tell me where am I?"
So again he opened his friendly door
And stood disappointed as twice before
It was only a child who had wandered away
And was lost from her family on Christmas Day

Again Conrad's heart was heavy and sad
But he knew he should make the little girl glad
So he called her in and he wiped her tears
And quieted all her childish fears

Then he led her back to her home once more
But as he entered his own darkened door

He knew the Lord was not coming today
For the hours of Christmas had passed away

So he went to his room and knelt down to pray
And he said, "Dear Lord, why did You delay?
What kept You from coming to call on me?
For I wanted so much Your face to see

When soft in the silence a voice he heard
"Lift up your head for I kept my word
Three times my shadow crossed your floor
And three times I came to your lonely door"

"I was the beggar with bruised, cold feet
And I was the woman you gave something to eat

I was the child on the homeless street

Three times I knocked and three times I came in
And each time I found the warmth of a friend
Of all the gifts, love is the best
And I was honored to be your Christmas Guest"

by Mel Torme and Robert Wells

Merry Kiss-Moose!

The House of Christmas

A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.

This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

by Gilbert Keith Chesterton

The Christmas I Remember

I remember when it seemed that Christmas was celebrated by everyone. When Christmas carols themed on the birth of the Savior were universally sung; in school, in stores, on the street corner, by carolers everywhere. When it was common to have a visit from or to join in a group of carolers in your neighborhood.

I remember when schools and churches alike put on nativity pageants, and when government buildings displayed nativity scenes and messages of "Merry Christmas" and "Joy to the World". When entire communities joined in a religious Christmas celebration.

I remember when there was no doubt or confusion as to what the reason for the celebration was all about. When it was generally understood that there would be nothing near the level of the wintertime happy holidays season we currently enjoy were it not for the celebration of Jesus Christ's birth.

I remember when, as we looked forward to Santa coming and reveled in the joy and fun of that jolly old elf, the message of the birth of the Christ Child was still not overshadowed. When Santa Claus himself gave deference to the baby Jesus. When the history of the original St. Nicholas was told - that of a religious man who loved and followed the Savior.

I remember when television shows and movies included, emphasized and celebrated the real meaning of Christmas. When Hollywood was not afraid to promote the belief in and the honor of Jesus, God and bible stories.

I remember when saying "Merry Christmas" was synonymous with "Happy Holidays" and "Season's Greetings", and no one was offended or thought to take offense. When everyone readily offered such words of happiness to friends and strangers alike.

I remember when there were no stores open on Christmas - anywhere - except maybe a convenience store at the gas station. When no one even cared that stores were closed. When advance planning and shopping made it so that there was no need to buy anything. When the commercialization of the holiday was much less than it is today. When "Black Friday" was not a well-known term for the day after Thanksgiving. When people wouldn't think of fighting over the latest gadget in the middle of the night in preparation for celebrating the birth of the Savior.

I remember warm, happy family times during what was considered the biggest and best day of the year. When family love was paramount. When it seemed that for a brief, shining moment there actually was peace on earth and goodwill toward men.

I remember all of this well. No, times were not perfect back then. But there was something much more pure and peaceful about the holiday (a word derived from the term "holy-day"). And in my heart, and in as much as I can influence my own family's celebration, this kind of Christ-centered celebration is alive and well with me and my family.

I pray that it is, or can be, with yours.

Merry Christmas!

-Ken

The Christmas Truth

Beyond the twinkling things
Away from commercializing
The seasons
And much more than just
‘Happy Holidays!’
There will forever remain
The truth about
The most faithful lover
Who in his greatest love
So wished to come
And dwell among us
To share our pains and sorrows
So, he chose to be born
As a helpless baby
That had to escape
The grip of the sovereign …
The violence of the powerful
To grow up to the day
When he would show
To the entire history
How the martyrs of this world;
The oppressed, the marginalized …
All the crucified ones
Will be risen holding high 
The banner of resurrection.

by George Onsy

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One Solitary Life

He was born in an obscure village
The child of a peasant woman
He grew up in another obscure village
Where he worked in a carpenter shop
Until he was thirty

He never wrote a book
He never held an office
He never went to college
He never visited a big city
He never traveled more than two hundred miles
From the place where he was born
He did none of the things
Usually associated with greatness
He had no credentials but himself

He was only thirty three

His friends ran away
One of them denied him
He was turned over to his enemies
And went through the mockery of a trial
He was nailed to a cross between two thieves
While dying, his executioners gambled for his clothing
The only property he had on earth

When he was dead
He was laid in a borrowed grave
Through the pity of a friend

Nineteen centuries have come and gone
And today Jesus is the central figure of the human race
And the leader of mankind's progress
All the armies that have ever marched
All the navies that have ever sailed
All the parliaments that have ever sat
All the kings that ever reigned put together
Have not affected the life of mankind on earth
As powerfully as that one solitary life.

by James Allan Francis

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