I thought maybe the reason for this was because parents of children that weren`t celebrating Christmas had complained, but that was not the case since the only two children in the entire daycare that wouldn`t have were in my classroom (one child is Muslim, and one child is Hindu), and I had taken care to ask if they were both OK with a tree and talk of Christmas, and had left an open invitation to let me know of particular traditions they had in their culture that I would gladly share or incorporate within my activities.
So that is when, I am ashamed to admit, that I had very unkind thoughts about a whole lot of people. Immigrants in particular. The type of immigrants that started the movement to accomodate (
Well believe it or not, I stayed angry for the remainder of the day until I went home and listened to a song on youtube. The song is called Mary Did You Know and I had never heard it before, so even though its sound didnt appeal to me, I listened through anyways. The singer is asking Mary if she knew everything that was going to happen to her baby boy, Jesus.
And isn`t it funny, I have been so focused on Jesus as a man, as the Son of God, that I completely forgot the fact that he was Mary`s baby boy. She delivered him and held him as he took his first breath, just a little tiny baby in her arms. I don`t have any children, but I can just barely conceive that instinct within a mother to protect her offspring from every harm and evil the world holds. So to think that this woman knew that her son`s destiny was to literally suffer and die to save the world, I cannot even imagine what she was feeling. How could she endure watching her precious son on the cross? How did she have enough faith and strenght to not give in to temptation to run as far away as possible in order to save her baby? How did she manage to give up the one thing that was most precious to her in the world for the good of others?
How could I raise such a fuss, such an angry, hate and violence filled fuss just for decorations, when this woman made the ultimate sacrifice, standing by as the will of God manifested in the death of her son, of His Son? How torn, hurt, desolate she must have felt to see him there on the Cross. How little she must have cared for the fate of humanity faced with the utmost pain that her son had to endure, that little baby boy she held in her womb and then delivered, and then cared for and loved unconditionally his whole life during... And here I was, filling my mind with hate and hardening my heart against difference and change. Truly I was and am ashamed. This woman who is the Queen of Heaven is an inspiration to my daily life, and I turned my prayers to her that night, imploring her to show me how to be more like her, and asking her to pray for me to the Lord.
The next week, my director announced to us that it had been a misunderstanding on her part, and that there was no problem with celebrating Christmas through decorations, Santa Claus, and presents. Ave Maria indeed.