The Window | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: The Window | Previous Challenge Entry
By Frank Salerni
10/14/08
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The Window

I can remember as a child the anticipation of my favorite holiday, Christmas. I remember the wonder of it, the joy, the unspeakable mysteries of dreams come true… ah, but that was a long time ago.

I remember the stories told of reindeer that could fly, and assist others in their quest to touch the heart of every man, woman and child on earth with gifts of hope… oh, that too, was so long ago.

I also can remember the sleepless nights I encountered which lead up to that glorious night before Christmas. Oh, the unrest conjured up from my racing thoughts, and my curious acceptance of the impossible that came to life on Christmas Day, but… alas, that was just a child’s mind gone wild.

I remember the food. Not just the lavish dinners, but also the chocolate, the cookies, the candies, the shameless indulgences without many restrictions… and now, it’s just a formula for a diabetic coma.

I remember the early morning family ritual. How did all these packages make there way beneath our tree… obviously, I thought, it must be the work of simple magic?

And that tree, that homely, imperfect, yet wonderful tree. How had it changed overnight? Someone must have sprinkled it with the elves secret Christmas dust I thought, because the lights were so much brighter, the ornaments were so much clearer, and the branches so much fuller on Christmas morning.

And now…

The memories of a broken relationship, the years that turned a smile into scorn, the stress of financial juggling, the dread of the shopping malls, the cold, the snow, the relentless pushing, shoving, striving, and all just to have it be over and done with.

This is not Christmas. This is a Christmess! Tears on my face reflected the glimmer of a single strand of lights, for ritual sake, strung across my cold wooden mantle. What have I become? It is Christmas Eve, and I can only dwell in the brokenness of life’s war-torn past. A war that I created in my own mind, and a path that leads to an old mans callous heart.

I drifted off to sleep in my easy chair. A glass of eggnog held in my right hand spills to the floor. A drink laced with rum… the only tradition I held on to that seemed appropriate.

I awakened after a short time, and I am to this day not quite sure why. I must have heard the sound of my dog licking the spilled drink from the floor, when suddenly there was a thud at a darkened window. Did a confused bird hit it… or am I still dreaming? I went to the window in order to see if the animal was still alive, and it was. I stepped out into the winter night and scooped up the hurt bird in a freshly gloved hand. It was a dove.

I sat back down in my chair and placed the dove on my lap with my hands clasped around it for warmth. As I looked at the dove I thought how lucky it was to have a savior such as I on a miserably cold night as this. It was then I noticed a small scrap of paper stuck to the bottom of its foot. I pulled it loose and turned it over to reveal a piece of Christmas wrapping, from who knows where, that said, Merry Christmas.

I broke.

Tears streamed down my wrinkled face as God spoke to my heart. The years of Christmas torment was replaced with repentance… the only tool that can scrape the callous from a hardened heart. In a moment the war was over as I remembered the lessons from being a child in Sunday school about the real Savior, Christ Jesus, and the real meaning of Christmas.

My heart was warmed as I gave Christ back my life. I had taken that living sacrifice back desiring to control my own destiny.

It was not I that saved the dove… it was, “The Dove” that saved me.

God not only stands at the door of our heart and knocks, but also is watching through life’s windows.

Mat 18:3 … "Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven. NKJV

Some clichés bears repeating; Let’s put Christ back in Christmas! God's Christmas tree is the CROSS!

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