Heartbeat Press - January 2026 Edition

 

Call the Midwife - Steady Hands in the Midst of the Pain and Beauty of Birth 

    Christmas specials are a hallmark (pun intended) of the holiday season and come from many places. Americans fondly remember the puppet-starring Rankin Bass TV movies that graced their screens from the 1960s-80s; Japan (famous for its anime) often includes at least one Christmas/New Year's themed episode in applicable series; and a wealth of ongoing series from England often build major plot developments around their prearranged Christmas specials. In fact, England may warrant some type of award for how much effort it puts into promoting Christmas via its established series and characters. Dedicated holiday episodes are so common that every well-known series not only has them every year, but they are also allowed extra runtime and take up the majority of TV programming until January. Perhaps there's something innately comforting or endearing about seeing Downton Abby characters trim a tree or about following Dr. Who as he works through a Christmas-Carolesque adventure. Whatever the case, England loves Christmas and so do its fictional characters. 

    One British series that has always adhered to this standard is the BBC's Call the Midwife. Running from 2012 to the present day, every one of the show's fourteen seasons has had a Christmas special that joyously features crisp snow, shiny gifts, soft vintage Christmas lights on a proud spruce, and a predictable but nonetheless heartwarming holiday message of hope, love, and togetherness. But beyond Christmas, this series is quietly remarkable and carries a profound Pro-Life message with many different facets. 

    Based on a book of the same name and set in a 1950s East End London that is still trying to pull itself back together after World War II, the series follows a group of midwives and nuns who devote their time to the people of Poplar, specifically the many expectant mothers who continue having children even amidst post-war revitalization efforts. The nurses, including Helen George's Trixie, Charlotte Richie's Barbara, and Judy Parfitt's Sister Monica Joan, Encounter everything from standard births, to undiagnosed triplets (delivered in the middle of a blackout), to tragedies worsened by patient interpersonal problems, all while coping with their own life circumstances. And yet, throughout every episode, each character reminds ever-dedicated to her profession and what it means to be a midwife. The depth of this has been demonstrated in multiple episodes, particularly one where nurses Trixie and Crane leap in to deliver a baby in squalid conditions without a second thought and another where the newly-minted Sister Frances must overcome her fear of working alone to deliver a compound-presenting baby. 

    Extremely Pro-Life from the get-go as a series that highlights the dignity of babies and the strength of their mothers, Call the Midwife refines that leaning in ways that go beyond a basic appreciation for life. It demonstrates the intense beauty of women supporting women, not through trite "My Body My Choice" arguments but, rather, via encouragement of ability, willingness to endure pain and fear for a child's sake, and the characters acting as strong arms for the mothers to cling to in the most intense and defining moments of their lives. In that respect, the birth scenes (which the series portrays as realistically as possible) aren't pretty, but they are undeniably beautiful. Blood and sweat predate overwhelming joy and Call the Midwife's characters are there to usher in every moment of that passage. 

    Call the Midwife also highlights its Pro-Life heartbeat in other ways besides depictions of pregnancy and birth. A series of episodes sees the midwives aiding the family of a little girl born with underdeveloped arms as a result of thalidomide. As the show's seasons progress into the 1960s, fathers are routinely brought into the drama of birth and asked to support their wives on a level that goes deeper than ever before. And Reggie, a recurring character after season six, has Down Syndrome but never lets it hold him back. In fact, Daniel Laurie's character brings so much joy to the series that characters and audiences alike are quickly infected with his upbeat attitude. All these plot points demonstrate that life is beautiful in all circumstances, a sentiment the show heartily and personally believes. Amazingly, Call the Midwife has also addressed the issue of abortion in a surprisingly realistic and somber way. While sometimes painted as a tragedy that "had to happen," the main characters are always aghast when it occurs and mourn the undeserved death rather than agreeing with the "necessity" of the act. In a time when pregnancy resource centers didn't exist, Call the Midwife's characters are beginning to ask themselves if something of the like should be available for unplanned pregnancies. 

    Call the Midwife is a show about pregnancy, birth, and the servant hands of those who minister to mothers and babies alike. But, besides that, it is also a beautiful picture of just how vital love and support are at every stage and circumstance of life. It gives a healthy demonstration of what going all-in to help others can look like and, more importantly, points out that even a little effort (backed up by gritted determination) can make a world of difference. In times of crisis (or even simple shakiness), steady hands are often needed; those who have them are the makers of miracles, big or small. 

Photo Credit: PBS.org

A Chinese Restaurant

A Chinese restaurant

On Christmas Eve - warmth hangs still

Sustaining a world. 

Photo Credit: Pinterest - Inside Archive

Heartbeat Press - December 2025 Edition

A Christmas Birth - The Extraordinary Story of Unextraordinary People 

    For the past two years, Heartbeat Press' December edition has centered around the Christmas Story and the amazing Pro-Life message it holds - for mothers, fathers, and the greater population. We've discussed the example of Mary (as a profound example of what God-given peace looks like in the face of unwelcome surprises) and we've delved into the mind of Joseph (the reluctant father-turned-defender of a child who wasn't his, proving that love doesn't begin with blood). In both newsletters, we pointed out that the Christmas Story is, above all else, a tale of hope and joy and one that should be a yearly reminder that unexpected babies, no matter their circumstances, are worthy of life and love. But in this, our third exploration of the most Pro-Life holiday, Heartbeat Press wants to highlight another point, one that had little to no page space in previous years but that is still vitally important to remember. Namely, that a key reason that the Christmas Story is so spectacular and still inspires unrequited kindness to this day is the fact that Mary and Joseph were completely ordinary people - unimportant by their own rights but made capable of doing a great thing through the Lord. 

    Centuries removed from the time and place and offset by the holiday bacchanal that often bathes the nativity family in holy light sporting golden halos, most people tend to forget that Mary and Joseph were two very average people who, prior to the birth of Jesus, were not remarkable for their day, had no plans of grandeur, and were not expected to rise beyond the expectations of "success" that 4 B.C. Israel had for them. Compounding this (at the time of the Christmas Story), they were refugees and a disgraced couple (pregnant out of wedlock/accepting of a ruined woman) at whom no one cared to look twice. They arrived in Bethlehem ragged and dirty. Joseph was in the throes of panic trying to find a place for his wife to stay in an unwelcoming city. Mary was suffering through all the pains of labor and the anxiety of the uncertain. They were anything but the pristine picture of holy fortitude that we think of today. 

    And yet, even in their terrible situation, God was with Mary and Joseph. Not only watching over them from above but present in their very midst (in Mary's womb), feeling every shaky breath, rapid heartbeat, and falling tear, and glowing with pride for the couple He had chosen to be His parents on earth because they were trusting in Him, doing everything they could to bring their baby into the world safe, warm, and loved, despite their circumstances. Through dirt and sweat and blood, Mary and Joseph held onto each other. Everything was uncertain except God's goodness and their willingness to lean on that enabled this insignificant couple from nowhere to begin the most profound story of love every written. They didn't know it at the time, but their pain had a great purpose that was made far more beautiful by the emptiness (rather than polished holiday splendor) that they brought to it. 

    While missing the virginal conception aspect, writing this piece showed me that the story of Mary and Joseph (the Christmas Story) is not dissimilar to the condition of many couples that walk through the doors of pregnancy resource centers every single day. Just like Mary, the mothers may feel overwhelmed or afraid. Just like Joseph, the fathers may be lost for their next steps or questioning what they can possibly do. It the throes of "the worst moment of their lives," these couples are in emotional turmoil, they may be missing even the most basic necessities, and they feel utterly alone and unseen. They are looking for a lifeline of any sort...which the volunteers at pregnancy resource centers are uniquely placed to offer wholeheartedly. 

    This holiday season, please remember the ministry in which you have been placed and the God-given worth of  every person who walks through your doors. Despite their appearance, situation, similarity to you (of not), they are God's children, and deeply loved ones at that. They are utterly deserving of love and support, as much as you can offer, given in genuine care. They're no different than the couple we now revere as the parents of Christ, so why do "unknowns" deserve any less attention?

    At the same time, the interaction that you can have with these couples is a beautiful opportunity that God has asked you to take up. In ministering to the person visiting a pregnancy resource center, perhaps God has called upon you to display those other qualities from Mary and Joseph that Heartbeat Press has discussed in previous years. Perhaps you are meant to be that person's anchoring peace in the storm of their circumstances. Perhaps you are meant to be a strong arm to cling to. Maybe God has placed this person in your path to show you a picture of yourself in His eyes and the overwhelming, all-encompassing love that spills out as a result. Mary and Joseph were tow unextraordinary people, but God still allowed them to do an extraordinary thing. "May that be truly said of us...," that we followed God's lead when He calls us in every circumstance. One never knows what little thing will change the world, for even just one person. 

Resources: The Nativity Story, The Best Christmas Pageant Ever (1983) 

Photo Credit: Pinterest 

Sugar Snow

Sugar snow,

The Christmas kind,

That drifts in sparkling mounds.

Upon the hill...against the house, 

Leaving traced patterns, 

Across the frosted pane. 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

The Hush

The hush of a college commons,

Late on a Wednesday night. 

Is held by steady breathing, 

And the soft falling snow outside.

A world of its own making,

Made up of quite minds. 

A feeling of focused melancholy,

And the anticipation of homebound trips.

A week before Christmas break,

A holy calm ensues.

The hush of a college commons,

Filled with the hopeful few. 

Photo Credit: Art Station (pinterest)

Heartbeat Press - December 2023 Edition

Mary - A Moment of Peace 

Picture this: It's early on a Monday morning, and the sun has just peeked over the smallest downtown buildings but the city below is already buzzing with busy people. Office workers speed down the sidewalk, tightly gripping overpriced cups of emotional-support coffee, kids rush off to school with hurried good-byes from their parents, car horns blare on the interstate, doors slam as soccer moms bustle from one grocery store to another, phones ring off the hook. Take all of this in and...one timid teenage girl sitting alone in her home bathroom holding a newly positive pregnancy test. Unlike the rest of the world, the space around this girl has gone completely still - frozen, in fact - as she stares in dumbfounded horror at the two little blue lines on the test that slowly begin to blur as tears prick her eyes.

     Unsure how this even happened, the girl's mind races with unanswerable questions. How is she going to take care of a baby? Is she capable of being a mom? What will her parents think? How will she finish school? Will her boyfriend be upset? Will her boyfriend leave her? Every awful option and outcome rushes through her head, but as the shakily stands up, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes, nothing seems clear and pure panic floods her entire body. She's not ready to have a baby but what can she possibly do about it?

    Now transport the scene I just described to Israel around the year 6 BC. Replace the pregnancy test with a divine angel visit and the bathroom with a courtyard in the land of Galilee...and give the young girl and name: Mary. As strange as it seems, Mary, the mother of Jesus, was once in the same seemingly "hopeless" situation that many young girls find themselves in and, she undoubtedly had many of the same questions and fears. She was afraid, she was alone, and she was unsure of what to do next. Her world went still and her mind raced. And yet in that moment, the most chaotic moment of her young life, Mary heard the angel who had bought the news speak the most beautiful command: "Do no be afraid." 

    Spoken softly and filled with a truth that clamed her heart immediately, Mary understood that, blindsided as she was, she truly had nothing to fear. Deep in her soul, she knew she would be all right because, though she couldn't understand his reasoning, God, the creator of the universe, the world, and Mary herself, had specially picked her for this moment. He knew what he was doing and had perfectly planned this pregnancy for a greater and glorious good. He didn't make mistakes or have lapses in judgment and, with his help, she was and always had been ready for this calling.

    Mary's unplanned pregnancy would go on to save the world, and, while hers was the only child to be the son of God incarnate, her story is still a beautiful testament to the simple truth that no child is a mistake. They may not be expected, their mothers might panic at the news, their lives may even hang in the balance for a moment. But, given peace and a trust in God's timing, every "hopeless" situation can become a great blessing. And yet, if Mary had lived in our modern world, she would have been the perfect candidate for an abortion. Preyed upon by the abortion industry and its lies that said she wasn't ready, capable, or strong enough to have a baby, she would never have had the opportunity to feel that moment of peace that convinced her to let go of fear. 

    Instead, she would have fallen for the "quick" and "easy" solution that Planned Parenthood offers to hundreds of girls every day. She might have believed them when they said, "This is the best thing for you." She would have convinced herself that, in getting rid of her child, she was exercising the empowerment that every woman is entitled to. She would have felt a wave of unimaginable terror wash over her as the procedure began, undermining any confidence she had that her decision was right. She would not have known until it was too late that, having allowed a murder, she would have to live with the shame and guilt of that realization for the rest of her life. She would have experienced the hell that thousands of women go through every year because no one was there to tell them, "Do not be afraid." 

    Where are the angels who will tell these expectant mothers that, no matter their circumstances, fears, or setbacks, their children are a blessing and they will be all right? Where are the calming voices that can proclaim that the Lord has a plan and doesn't make mistakes? Where are the hands that can snatch life from the jaws of death though patience and love? They are here, in the Pro-Life movement. As the God-appointed protectors of life, we must also be the hands and feet of Christ in the life of every mother who needs our comfort and our care. We have been called for such a time as this and we must answer boldly and quickly...because we never know when we will encounter a Mary in need of us. 

Source: Wikipedia, Luke 1:26-38 

Photo Credit: ar.inspiredpencil.com 

The Season of Giving

Who remembers the old Charlie Brown Christmas specials? Of course, there's the classic episode with the pageant, where Linus tells the true meaning of Christmas and Charlie Brown finds the little Christmas tree with the bright red ornament. Everyone remembers this one, but there is another one.

The second Charlie Brown Christmas special is a mix of little stories about the holidays, including scenes about a Christmas show, selling wreaths door to door, and the "trials of writing a Christmas theme." During that story, Sally, Charlie Brown's little sister, decides to write about the joys of getting. She writes, "Christmas is getting all you can get while the getting is good." Charlie Brown, confused by Sally's theme, tries to explain to her that the holidays aren't about getting, but, rather, giving. Sally doesn't understand and continues to insist that getting is the real joy of Christmas.

Everyone who has seen this episode remembers it fondly and laughs at poor Charlie Brown and all the problems he always runs into. But there is more to this little story than we think.

How many of us act just like Sally? Even unknowingly, this holiday season you may have acted exactly like Sally Brown does in the cartoon. How many of you had that one item on your wish list that you just had to have, begged for, hinted to everyone you knew, and even plotted revenge if you didn't get it? And then you finally got it; you ripped into the Christmas wrapping paper and there it was! You were so happy, and you were so excited that you got what you wanted.

You, my friend, fell into the "getting trap." You were so excited about getting something for yourself and enjoying it yourself, you completely forgot about the real reason we celebrate Christmas.

Christmas is the season of giving - being joyful and giving as much as we can give to those who don't have enough. Christmas is that time of year when we remember that God sent his son Jesus to earth to give us the ultimate gift, a way out of our sin and his love to enjoy. But he also wants us to share this love; he gave us so much that we could never use it all, and so we could give it away.

And here's the cool part: We don't have to wait for Christmas for give away love; we can distribute it all year round, every day. Why wouldn't you want to do that?! So let's give away our love; let's not end up like Sally, thinking that the holidays are about getting. But, instead, let's flip the script and give as much as we can. I guarantee it will be 100% better then getting something.

An Elle and Dell Beginning

The night sky is a dull, grayish black clouds mixed with city smog. This haziness hangs over the whole city in a thick blanket, smothering everything. But somehow from these grey clouds pure white snowflakes are falling.

They're so tiny and delicate, floating on the wind and dancing up and down. The wind is blowing colder now and harder, tossing the flakes around, up and down and together and apart, mixing them all together in a great white blur. Some of the flakes melt as they float closer to the lit cigarette in my hand, its glow illuminating a glistening white flake for and instant before it destorys it.

I sigh as I hold the cigarette up to my mouth and then suck in a puff of smoke. I let the taste roll over my tongue for a few moments, allowing the tangy, burning smell, to fill my nose before I let it go, blowing the smoke into the swirling snow. Who could have guessed I would end up here in New York City the day before Christmas, all alone with only my cigarette for a friend? This is not how I though I would be spending my holiday, let alone my life. 

As I gazed back into the snow from my apartment balcony, my mind wondered over the last few years. How far I had fallen. How wrong my friends had been when they had said I would go the farthest after high school. They used to say, "Ellie Widenburge is so smart she'll be a doctor or a lawyer of something else important like that.

True, I had started my first month at medical school fresh - faced and ready to take on the world and its knowledge. But then things had happened. One thing after another, all leading to that final straw only a few weeks after the beginning of the semester. I had slowly lost interest in being a doctor and dropped out completely soon after. I guess i just couldn't get back on my feet after that. So I had let the years slip away from me and, with them, the few good friends I had; I really didn't have anyone now.

But this was no time to think about the past. After all, it had already happened; besides, my cigarette was almost finished and I needed to buy a new pack. It was no less cold inside my apartment than outside but I was use to it. Throwing on my thickest jacket and gloves, I grabbed up my wallet and headed out the door.

Twenty flights of stairs and a vending machine stop later, I was on the dark street below. Turning towards the busiest street, I began shuffling down the sidewalk that was all too familiar to my step. I'm sure if you'd looked closely, you'd be able to see the worn down cement where my feet often dragged.

The snow was still falling but lighter now. The gray clouds still hung over my head and the buildings nearby seemed to press down on me as I shuffled closer to the corner drugstore. If these houses and buildings could talk, I'm sure they would not be able to count how many times I had passed by them; I couldn't even remember. I often imagined the people in the nearby high rises looking out of the windows seeing me every day and judfing me as they lived their cozy lives; it used to bother me but after a while I had became numb to it.

I was close to the store now; I could practically see the door. My mind began to wander again but not far enough that I didn't hear it. I listened. The sound of a single bell, clear and perfect, was piercing the night air; it rang out so sweetly, almost like a singer's voice.

As I continued to walk, it became louder and even sweeter. It was coming from the drugstore. Something about the sound's pealing pulled me towards it so much so I couldn't stop myself, and, as if I had no control over my own body, me feet began to run. Closer and closer to the bell I came, my ears only hearing the ringing. It sounded so beautiful and out of place on this dreary night that I just had to find the source!

And there it was. On the corner of the store sidewalk, draped in a red apron with a towel on her head stood a lady ringing a tiny silver bell and making it sing with all her might. I stopped running. I stopped completely. All I could do was stare at the woman, and then she looked up.

I gulped. Now what? This was awkward. What should I do? I thought the woman would scowl at me and be angry for staring so I prepared for what I thought was coming, an outburst of annoyance thrown in my general direction.

But, instead, the woman just smiled and stuck a gloved hand up into the air and waved. When I didn't wave back she called out, "Merry Christmas! Ma'am, are you having a good holiday?"

"Yeah...I guess," I stammered, finally remembering to wave.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she said as I got closer. "Have you heard the good news?" Christmas is a very special time, but not the way you're thinking. Did you know that there was a king born on this day a long time ago, and did you know that he loves you?"

What was she talking about? It sounded like she was just speaking nonsense. Whatever it was, I didn't want to hear it, but how to get away from this lady? There was nothing to do but walk past her and into the store, which I finally did but only with a great amount of effort.

After buying my pack of cigarettes, I waited just inside the door. I didn't want to walk past the bell ringer again; it would be too embarrassing. But there was no other way out except the main doors.

Maybe she would leave. But she didn't; she just kept standing there, ringing the bell and smiling at everyone who walked in or out.

Oh, whatever! I had endured embarrassment before; I could do it again. So, pulling my coat around my shoulders, I opened the door and stepped quickly past her. She didn't try to stop me; I didn't even think she saw me.

And, when I was a couple of feet away from her, I looked back. She was still ringing the bell. Whew! Thank goodness she wasn't offended by my staring and, better than that, she hadn't seen me leave. She wouldn't have another chance to preach to me about Christmas. Or so I thought.

I turned to go home and then heard, "Have a nice holiday, ma'am! God loves you!"

I whirled around, "What?" I called back.

"God loves you, ma'am!"

Why had she said that? She didn't even know me! Was the only question pounding in my head all the way home and all that night and even the next morning. I realized I really shouldn't have been so ruffled by the encounter, though it had caught me off guard. But what did it really matter? I was never going to see that lady again, so I should just forget it.

It was Christmas Day, and what a rotten one at that. I guessed Christmas is the loneliest holiday ever - well, aside from Valentine's Day - but that was beside the point.

I was sitting in my living room once again with a cigarette  in my hand. But I wasn't smoking it so it was just filling the room with fog. I was debating putting it out and going back to bed when the door bell rang. Sighting, I got up from the couch and went to unlock the door.

I was not prepared for the little woman standing there. In truth, I could barely see her over the giant basket of food she was carrying. But I could tell it was her, the same lady from last night. The bell ringer.

"Oh my! Well, isn't this a surprise. I had no idea you lived here, ma'am, but let me introduce myself; Dellphine Whit. But most everybody - and you - can call me Dell. I just wanted to drop off a few Christmas goodies to the people in this part of town," she babbled.

I stood frozen to the ground. What was that I had said about never seeing the bell ringing again?

Dell continued. "Don't look so shocked, honey, I'm not trying to scare you or anything. It really is amazing what God works out. I had a feeling you needed help."

"Excuse me, what? You know, lady I don't care. You're just freaking me out and I really don't feel like buying whatever you're selling."

"I'm not selling anything but the truth."

"Well, bah. I don't want to hear it! I've heard about you people, you Christians, coming around on Christmas selling a bunch of mumbo jumbo just to make yourself feel better. I don't want to hear it so please get off my front step!" I bellowed.

"All right, dear. Just please take the basket. It's Christmas," Dell said irritatingly calm.

Then she turned around and left.

Picking up the basket which she had left behind, I stalked back inside and slammed the door. I almost threw it away - I didn't need it after all - but on top was a little card and it stopped me. All it said was, "Christmas is about love, and we love you. Inner City Hope Mission, 2366 East Avenue."

I don't know what it was but something made me keep the card; I didn't want to let it go. In fact, I wanted to find out more. At least it would give me something to do.

The building looked like any other on the block, tall and made of brick with soot and grime blanketing the sides. I looked up at it three days after Dell had stood at my front door, I scoffed to my self, "Some place of hope. It looks like it could fall apart in two minutes."

Oh, but something about it stopped me from continuing. I looked up into one of the many dirty windows. It looked warm inside almost cozy; it almost seemed to glow with a special light. Inside I could see a little girl sitting by herself on an old but soft looking coach. She seemed to be glowing to. Was she reading something? A book? I wondered what it was; I felt like I had to find out. So without thinking I walked over and opened the door, and then I was inside. It was cozy with warm lights shining from every corner. I walked over to the girl.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

She looked up at me with the most clear blue eyes I had even seen, "I'm reading the Bible, 1 John 4: 27."

"What does it say?"

"Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God," she read. Closing the book she smiled up at me.

What was it about these Christians, why did they always smile, and not just normal smiles, a kind of care free hopeful smile that I just couldn't let myself believe. But something in my heart twinged, like a guitar string. I sat there in the warmth, completely frozen.

"Love," I mumbled. "Who could ever love me?"

"I know who," the little girl said.

Had I said that out loud? She didn't give me a chance to remember.

"God could and does love you, and so do I." 

Christmas over Christmas

As much as I know most of you hate to admit it, fall is almost over and winter is almost here. Everyone is bracing for the first wave of snow, cold, road salt, and gray skies. But as much as the weather might be a pain, we all have something to look forward to: Christmas!

Everyone gets excited for Christmas, especially local stores. The very second that Thanksgiving is over, Christmas things hit the shelves and envelop the stores for another month. All sorts of Christmas things: food, candy canes, Santa hats, Rudolph ornaments, and Christmas trees. But in the middle of all the decor and holiday blink, everyone seems to forget a very simple fact. Christmas is not about Christmas!

What? Now that sounds strange, doesn't it? But it's true. Christmas has overshadowed the real holiday we should be celebrating.

The birth of Jesus Christ is way more important than how many deals you can snag on Black Friday, way more important than that extra big tree you bought, way more important than even Santa Claus. The truth is right here; we get so wrapped up in what we think Christmas is about, we forget the real deal, the real reason to celebrate: the birth of God is human form, the holy son of God who came to save us.

How about this holiday season we make an effort to celebrate the real holiday? Behind the tinsel, wrapping paper, and Christmas turkey, there is one little manger that means more than all the holiday trappings combined.

Santa Claus!

Santa Claus, Chris Kringle, Saint Nicholas. Many different names have been given to this jolly old man who has become a quintessential part of the Christmas holiday. No matter what you call this man, everyone loves Santa, with his red suit and fluffy white beard. How could anyone not?

But where does he come from? Over 1,700 years ago, a man named St. Nicholas was much beloved by the town in which he lived. Nicholas would leave gifts for the poor in his community; his kindness was so renowned that when he died he became the stuff of legend. Over time, the image and lore of Santa Claus has changed again and again, but one thing has remained the same: his care for people, especially children, through the acts of faithful parents. St. Nicholas' kindness has been kept alive.

The real Santa Claus died over 1,600 years ago, but yet he is not really gone. How does this man remain alive? There is a Santa Claus in every neighborhood, every city, every country. This does not mean that there are jolly, white-bearded men in every corner of the earth; in fact there is only one thing that makes a Santa Claus: kindness.

Every man has a chance to be Santa Claus no matter if he is young, old, tall, or short; the man only need kindness. Every man who practices kindness embodies what Santa was - a caring man who did everything he could for perfect strangers, giving, sacrificing self for others' happiness.

I commend the kind man. He is what fuels Santa's story, bringing the Christmas magic back every year. But slowly the story is fading; there is not enough kindness left in the world. I pray that our men are not afraid to show kindness; a real man cares for all who need it.

Every corner has seen a Santa - caring, loving, bringing Christmas. If you look hard enough, you can find them. Is there a Santa Claus in your neighborhood?

The Magic of Christmas

Tinsel, snow, big light up displays, holiday parades, red and green wrapping paper, and of course PRESENTS! Every one of these things is part and parcel of the big Christmas shebang. Over the years, the spectacle of Christmas has gotten bigger and bigger and the true magic of the season has been lost.

But what is the true magic of the season? Is it the huge Christmas trees in your city park? No. Santa and his elves? No. Is it the tapioca pudding? Not even that! The true magic was over 2,000 years ago. In a little town full of unimportant people, a very tired couple walked into Bethlehem; the woman on the donkey was about to give birth. No one would give them lodging so they made do with a stable. There Mary gave birth to Jesus Christ, the most important man in history to that date and the most important to ever be. This small baby boy would save the entire world. And in that stable shepherds and kings alike bowed down to the baby king. 

Now telling the Christ's birth is often jumbled up with all the other Christmas paraphernalia but it should be held aloft in a special place; it truly is the real magic of Christmas. So Christmas is not about presents and trees; it is the start of a wonderful story that ends in the salvation of the world. This year as you prepare to decorate your house and watch your city turn into Christmastown, try to remember the whole reason for the season: the birth of a king, the true magic of Christmas.

Photo Credit: Ambuj Saxema and Waiting for the Word