I attended a Christmas concert to kick off the month. This event marked a significant departure from how I have spent the last two Decembers. The end of 2024 feels like an eagerly anticipated embrace of something new – much like the birth of Jesus that is celebrated this time of year.
I find it no coincidence that the most life-changing birth is celebrated at the end of the year — a prelude to grace.
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,” Isaiah 9:6.
Despite the stressors and fatigue layered month upon month of another year drawing to a close, it is common for people to find themselves humming holiday tunes this month. We sing the classic carol ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ with a hint of longing in our voices as we reminisce about God’s faithfulness in times past. And we revive our devotion to trusting Him with our tomorrows.
The seats were assigned at the Christmas concert. This simple fact bears significant weight in the rest of the story in two ways: God knew, and God knows.
My seat placement offered a spectacular view of the symphony, but the best view was of the stranger I sat beside.
I felt his presence before I saw his face, as he had turned away when I entered the aisle. We shared an armrest, and his camel-colored cashmere sport coat felt warm and gentle upon my bare arm. His frame was large, so he could not help but be close to me despite his efforts to disengage.
As the repertoire of classic holiday songs began and ended, I found myself in childlike wonderment, tapping my foot, nodding my head, and smiling. This starkly contrasted with the woman I was just an hour prior, thinking I was too tired to go anywhere. It was almost comical to think I was the same person: both an aged lady and a young child.
When the house lights dimly lit the auditorium for intermission, I felt the stranger rise beside me.
Only then did we see one another’s face for the first time. I strained my neck to look at him. He was tall despite his hunched stance. His shoulders were broad, but I already knew that from his arm pressing against mine while we were seated. Looking at his face, it appeared that his coat was the only thing soft about him.
The stranger seemed disgruntled. He shrugged off his wife, who had asked him if he was enjoying the concert. I could tell the stranger felt trapped between her and me, and I could see him considering his options. It would have been too much effort for him to leave the aisle as it was too cramped and he was moving too slow, so he leaned himself on the chair in front of him, looking to an empty stage until it was time to sit down again.
The orchestra returned, continuing to play song after song of holiday favorites. I felt the stranger stir a few times, perhaps annoyed with my visible joy. Or, probably more accurately, annoyed with the quiet emergence of his childlike joy.
‘The Christmas Song’ was being played when I heard a low sound coming from the stranger. In what sounded like an angry whisper, I heard the man sing, “And so I’m offering this simple phrase — To kids from one to ninety-two — Although it’s been said many times, many ways….” He did not finish the rest of the lyrics, but it was enough that I felt heat rise from his body and onto mine.
Eventually, as the songs began and ended, the man felt less like a stranger and more like an ally, both of us enjoying the concert side-by-side.
A male soloist performed one of the final songs, ‘O Holy Night,’ with the entire symphony behind him. Tears fell upon my cheeks and pooled on my neck. They were tears of release, thankfulness, and hope. I felt the gentleman beside me, no longer a stranger but a brother, turn to me. Our wet eyes met briefly before his voice rose to give credence to these words:
“O Holy night! The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
‘Til He appears and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn
Fall on your knees; O hear the Angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born
O night, O Holy night, O night divine!”
The unfolding of the gentleman reminded me of the spirit of this time of year — the softening of hearts reaching toward Jesus. As we close one year to look toward another, may we remind ourselves of the significance of the season: the most life-changing birth is celebrated. And in accepting Jesus’ birth, life, death, and resurrection, we are gifted new life — a prelude to grace.
This column was initially published by CherryRoad Media. ©Tiffany Kaye Chartier.