Feel the magic of the Christmas

21st of January 2012

I'm so tired that I can't even gather my thoughts. They ran away, every one of them in other direction. It's like a tag play. I'm chasing, I'm touching. Tomorrow again I have to wake up at daybreak. It's edvading. Thorough cleaning of the house. It's edvading. A while with a cup of tea in my hand. It's edvading. Cooking a dinner for the boys. It's edvading. Christmas time. Tag play.
I knew that it's possible to catch it. It's one of this thoughts that holds my neurons tightly and can't stop nagging me. Have you even thought about a mystery of Christmas?

Creaky snow under the feet, penetrating cold. Smell of the green Christmas tree and little lights refelcted in a big glass balls. Hours spent in the kitchen to prepare our polish dishes: herring in cream or some dumplings filled with meat. Christmas Eve wafer and the wishes said to one another with the tears in our eyes. Gifts wrapped in colour papers and tied up with a silky ribbon. House full of people and christmas carols singing to the accompaniment of guitar.

                                    

I was missing it this Christmas. Instead of snow I had a heated sun and some rain. In the corner of the room Christmas Tree tired of life dreaming of a new dress. Pancakes with cottage cheese and strawberries prepared a few minutes before a Christmas-Eve supper. Dark blue tablecloth and uncompleted tableware. Sunday’s jeans and flip-flops. Outstrechted sweater instead of white shirt. I was feeling bad. Everything inside of me was screaming, that’s in not like it should be. I was missing my house, the smell of spice cakes, Christmas wafer, strong arms of my Father, my Mum’s blue eyes, my sister’s laugh. Because of that sorrow I've built a wall around me. A high wall.

But He came, anyway. So silently that I did not notice. He's managed with my sadness and discouragement. Penetrated my imperfections and limits. Brought me a freshness and a power of life. Emmanuel. God is with us. In Poland and in Peru. Between the snow-covered pine trees and between coconut palms. In the palace with the marble floor and in a small cartoon houses. In the happy family and next to the cringed poor man in the dark corner of the street. It’s me and you who needs a Christmas tree and gifts. He only needs our heart. Everything else doesn’t metter. And it is this mystery of the Christmas. Mystery of God’s birth.