Christmas.

Even the name carries a hint of magic as it twirls through my thoughts stirring up wonderfully evocative memories of enchanting, never to be forgotten moments.   I remember, as though it was yesterday, a snowy Christmas eve, my weary dad trying to shoo us to bed, his finger to his lips, whispering “Shh, can you hear it?  Santa’s up there.”   He pointed to the roof then and, wide-eyed with wonder, we stood perfectly still and listened.  And through the quiet, I heard it, the unmistakable sound of Santa’s sleigh settling on our roof.   My dad rushed to the window.  “Hurry,” he beckoned, holding back the curtains.  “You can see him.”   And as I peered through the blackness, I spied a sudden flash as his sleigh took to the sky.   The world had never held such magic, and I barely slept, as I kept my eyes open wide, and my ears listening for the sounds of Santa’s sleigh as it flew through the world.

The magic of that long-ago night has remained with me throughout my adult life.  For it is that enchanted, fairy-tale come true quality of Christmas that inspires me during these deep and dark winter nights.  Who can resist the possibilities that Christmas offers – a crackling fire, a steaming mug of cocoa, precious time with family and friends?

But there is another side to the magic that stirs me, for in so many dark corners around the world, Christmas will pass unnoticed, just another day in misery for countless millions of refugees and displaced.  Whether Christian, Muslim or Jew, from Africa to Afghanistan and beyond, the struggle to survive, to simply escape one’s tormentors, to find enough food to survive another day, to simply exist, will consume every bit of energy.  There is no time to pause for quiet reflection or celebration. There is barely time to breathe. In oft forgotten places like Ukraine, and Sudan, both North and South, and so many spots in the Middle East, there is no Christmas, no pause in the fiercest of battles. And with seemingly unending violence, division and angst in the world, it’s almost easier to huddle in our own corners, often forgetting what Christmas really means.

This holiday season, as we celebrate, and spend too much and eat too much, I hope that we will take a moment to think about the 42.5 million refugees and over 110 million displaced around the world.  If we join their struggle, we lift not just them, but ourselves as well, into the light, and it is in that light, we might be able to offer the promise that next year, there just might be Christmas everywhere.