It was Christmas Eve, last year. How I dreaded its arrival! I knew I shouldn't feel that way-but inside my little house the silence had become unbearable. My only company was the TV and most shows weren't the kind that held my interest long.
I had my daily Bible reading and my prayers. I often talked to God during the day, and there was comfort in that. I tried not to think about the past, but when the Christmas season arrived, I couldn't help thinking about the past-about happier times.
I thought about last spring when my Ted went to be with his Creator. Ours had been a good marriage. What made it special was that he was my best friend and we were happy and contented with one another's company. I guess we should have included more folks in our lives. Maybe I wouldn't have been so lonesome that Christmas Eve.
What made it even more difficult was that at my age, 82, most of the family on Ted's side and mine had all passed on. Sometimes, I thought, it's harder for us older folks to continue on. Sometimes, I wished God had taken me first.
Christmas should be a happy time for families and children. Even more, it's a joyful celebration of the birth of Jesus. I was comforted, thinking that I too, someday will meet departed loved ones now in Heaven, where we will be together again, worshiping Creator Father and being with His beloved son, Jesus.
But, I wondered last Christmas Eve how I could fill the hours in my lonely days. What could I do to replace the comfort of husband, children, and family love?
Before my husband passed on, he and I had lived so long that our dear son, Bob, and our sweet daughter Peg had both passed on from that dreaded disease, cancer. Sadly each of their marriages had been childless. So there were no grandchildren for Ted and me to love.
There is nothing more difficult than to lose your children before you go to meet Creator. Parents aren't meant to lose their children. I remember how Ted held me in his arms and comforted me, as I sobbed my grief away.
Fortunately, we had raised our children to follow Jesus. But it was still hard for me to accept God's will in my loss. I was grieved to realize God had called them home earlier than I thought He would. I prayed to Him daily to help me accept His will. And in my heart I know our children, and now Ted and all the rest of our loved ones are in His loving care.
This time last year, I didn't feel like putting up Christmas decorations. However, I displayed the most important decoration, the Nativity scene of the baby Jesus. It sat on the dining room table where my family once had gathered in happy excitement. In years past, we'd shared a wonderful Christmas Day with a feast of good food and lots of love and laughter.
In my heart, I was more than happy that I had a Heavenly Father who cared for me and was always there for me. But I had such a yearning for something or someone to love and hug on that Christmas Eve.
"Dear God, please help me cope with my loneliness," I prayed as I stood at my front room window in the late afternoon and gazed out past the front yard to the street. I looked across to my neighbors' house. Douglas and Sheila Begay had a pleasant young son, Will, and a pretty daughter, Sharon, who was finishing up her senior year in high school. I could see the Begays' tall spruce Christmas tree standing near the large, picture window. It was decorated with colorful ornaments and bright, flickering lights.
In my imagination, I heard the happy sounds of family love as they sat down to their Christmas Eve dinner. Later on there would be gifts to open amidst excited cries of delight.
I returned to my recliner and took the remote control. Soon I would find a Christmas show that would honor the birth of the Christ Child. As I waited, I thought about having some cookies and milk. I still bake oatmeal cookies with raisins in them for the Christmas season.
The door bell rang. When I opened it, there stood Will.
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Thomas," Will said, grinning happily. He held a little black Scottie with a red-colored, plaid ribbon tied around its neck. On its head was a tiny, black, Scottish beanie cap with a round fuzzy pom-pom on top. The puppy's pink tongue licked at Will's hand.
With his free hand, Will offered me a plate wrapped in aluminum foil. "Momma wanted to share some hot frybread with you," he explained. "She hopes you will enjoy it."
I held the warm paper plate smelling the delicious food. "Why, thank you, Will!" I said in surprised delight. "How thoughtful of your mother! Give her a big hug for me."
Will nodded and gave me another wide grin. "I guess my mom told you Molly had three puppies a few months ago. We thought maybe you might like to have this little guy to keep you company. We call him, Mac.
"Oh, Will, he's precious," I said softly, as he put the squirming puppy in my arms. "How kind of you all. I'd love to have Mac. And I know how to house train and care for him," I said confidently. "Don't worry about that. We had several puppies when my children were small."
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Thomas," Will said again. "If you need any help with Mac, just give me a call, and I'll be right over."
Tears filled my eyes. "Thank you for thinking about me," I murmured. "Please, Will, come inside and take some of my homemade, oatmeal cookies to your family."
"Thanks, Mrs. Thomas," Will said. "And Mom told me to tell you she hopes you're not cooking for yourself tomorrow. She'd like for you to have Christmas dinner with us about two o'clock. There'll be turkey and lamb stew and everything that goes with it. I'll come over and help you cross the street."
This time a few tears escaped and rolled down my cheeks. Will tried to avoid my eyes. I'm sure he saw them. I gave him a quick little hug. "Tell your mother I said 'Thank you for the invitation. I'll look forward to coming over.'"
With a covered plate of oatmeal cookies in his hands, Will crossed the yard, turned and waved. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Thomas," he said once more smiling.
"Merry Christmas, Will, and thank you all again," I called as a warm, squirming Mac wriggled in my arms. His little pink tongue spread wet kisses all over my cheeks. I closed the door. "I love you, too, Mac," I said.
I looked up for a moment and smiled. "Thank You, God," I whispered.
That night after saying prayers, I slept a contented sleep.
My friends, the Begays, are always checking in on me, and I've not had an attack of loneliness again. I'll never forget that happy Christmas Eve when God answered my prayers, and blessed me with "good neighbor love."
