It’s that time of the year again, Christmas is just around the corner. I have lived to see yet another year pass by. Perhaps the longest and definitely the saddest for me so far. I don’t know if I will ever be hopeful enough again to anticipate a new year. I stopped believing in miracles the day I said goodbye to my husband. He was so full of life and hope and goodness and I prayed, we prayed, but no miracle saved him even when the doctors were hopeful.
C.G. Jung wrote:
“The greatest tragedy of the family is the unlived lives of the parents.”
As I look back I wonder, where did the years go by? How did it become so dark so soon? And I remember our first Christmas in Dubai. In December 1985, Safeway had just opened its first supermarket in Bur Dubai, where we lived. On Christmas eve, after attending my husband’s company Christmas dinner, we stopped at the supermarket to buy some milk on our way home. As we were about to enter, a group of little kids ran out shouting and screaming cheerfully. They were so young, the oldest looked hardly ten years old. They were Muslim kids from the neighborhood, the boys wearing their traditional dishdashes (long white robes) and slippers, and the girls in their long colorful dresses with their black shiny hair combed into long braids. The youngest of the boys, the tiniest, stopped to speak to us. His face beaming with happiness he said in an excited and loud voice,
“Look! He gave me Christmas, did he give you yours?”
He showed us his hands. He was such a sight to look at. We went in to find Santa handing out goodies and sweets, much to the amusement of the local Muslim kids.
They were different times then. 9/11 hadn’t happened and the world was a much nicer place to live in. So whether it’s Christmas or Hanukkah or New Year which you will be celebrating, I hope it will bring joy and peace to your hearts the same way it brought happiness to that little boy even though he belonged to a different faith.