An X-Mas Story

It was beginning to look a lot like a party to remember. Guests had been arriving steadily all afternoon and there was now an entire room filled with lavishly wrapped presents. Constant streams of delicious hors d’oeuvres kept everyone mingling while champagne fountains kept spirits high. The murmur of pleasant conversation, accented now and then with outbursts of laughter, made the room feel warm and alive. Chestnuts roasting on an open fire and a fresh pot of a delightful Turkish blend flavored the air. Several hours passed by in this way before the evening broke upon a casual question.

“Isn’t it about time someone opened their presents?”

Everyone agreed wholeheartedly. It was getting late and many were ready to go home or anxious to move on to the next party. Food was finished and drinks were refilled as guests found comfortable places to stand or sit. Once this was done, nothing happened. What was, at first, an awkward pause grew rapidly into a plague of silence that threatened to consume everything in its path.

“Well?” Someone finally spoke. “Where is the birthday boy?”

“Don’t you mean birthday girl?” A young woman from across the room called out. The stillness resurfaced and the room went cold.

“I think she’s in the bathroom!” Someone shouted.

“He ran upstairs to make a call.” Someone else offered.

“Wait a minute! Just whose party is this, anyway?” The question was finally asked and answered by hundreds of blank stares. “Well, somebody’s got to open all these presents!” Nobody moved. “Let’s take them all back and give them to each other!”

“YEEEAH!” The crowd roared and surged into the room full of gifts. You would not have thought it possible for so many to fit through such a narrow doorway, and you would have been right. The doorway split in two. People screamed as the splintered wood tore at their garments and pierced their sides. Unaware of what was happening to those in front, the mob pressed in from behind. Broken partygoers fell underfoot as the second and third waves scrambled madly for presents. There arose a great and mournful sound of tearing and gnashing of teeth as wrapping paper was destroyed and people bit through ribbons like rabid goats.

The gifts were soon all opened and everyone marveled at how so many could receive without anyone having given. Some wanted what they got. Some wanted what others had. The exclamations of the satisfied and the groans of the disappointed drowned out the cries of all those trapped beneath the shifting pile of brightly colored trash. Thirty minutes later the party was over and everyone had left. The house was empty.

Through a window, the smallest of stars poured out the shining depths of its heart into the night. The purity of this light filled the room with peace and joy. From deep beneath the litter a young man arose. He had been broken, torn and forgotten by the very loved ones he had invited to share his birthday. He stood now, bathed in the glorious warmth of one tiny, little star and smiled. It had remembered his birthday and given the greatest gift of all.


For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account.
–Isaiah 53:2, 3