A CHRISTMAS MESSAGE

God's Peace, Greensboro, NC

A Toddler's Joy, Greensboro, NC

I wrote a blog titled The Message about a spiritual moment that occurred just over ten years ago which my wife of forty years and I experienced at a relatively small garden park here in North Carolina.  Strolling through the park was a nice break from the rigors of fighting breast cancer and we both had come to terms with the reality of our mortal existence.  Karen had finished the rigors of an experimental cancer drug which she had volunteered to take in the interest of a miracle cure and research for future patients after the cancer had metastasized.  She remarked that she didn’t have the strength to walk far, so we rested on a park bench near a blooming Magnolia tree.  The July weather was perfect for forcing open the beautiful white blooms and the early morning dappled light filtered through the delicate petals. 

I walked over to the blooms to photograph various stages of life and in the process came upon a blossom that must have just opened that morning.  I returned to the bench where we both marveled at its flawless beauty and found a calming peace in its message for us.  It was a message that sustained us for those final fifteen days which followed in the hospital.  The memory of that day and the special place the garden park held for me remained in my heart but I did not return to the park again until last Christmas week. 

My visiting son-in-law and I drove to the garden park while my daughter met a friend for breakfast.  Our primary mission was to entertain and exercise my almost two-year old grandson in a space that was conducive to fresh air and open pathways.  And this park was ideal for such a venture!  He was actively enjoying all the circuitous walkways and it was all that we could do to keep up with him as he exuberantly ran through the park.  The Magnolia tree was still standing, but there were no blooms in late December.  However, we twice passed a tall serene black man in a black overcoat that walked by with a smile that indicated he was observing and enjoying the young toddler’s zest for life as much as we were embracing it.  When I said “Good Morning” with each passing, he only made eye contact and slowly smiled, but his demeanor was unmistakably different from the other strangers we met that day.  And that enigmatic smile has remained with me.

I’ve often mused that although Karen has not been physically present to experience the joy of our grandson, somehow there may be some means for her spirit to do so.  I have the confidence that we will all meet again in a beautiful forever and that promise is certainly enough, but I also know that the magnolia was conveying a message not of words, but of an image of our creator in all that is good.  And I also believe that he uses messengers such as winged butterflies and worldly looking beings to let us know that all is well—especially at Christmastime.