seems a long way to Bethlehem... through the years learning about life. Learning that there really isn't a
Santa... but he lives in our childhood memories. A beautiful soul with a red hat and white beard.
You don't remember the day, you were three in July and it is December now. Your mom dresses you in a little
red dress
and combs your
hair just so - it curls around your little face and you smile at the camera, trusting this gentle guy...
knowing that he will be a part of the full picture as we
learn that Jesus is the reason...
Saint Nick was a good fellow, bringing gifts and putting them in the children's shoes,
he left a lot of room for imagination
the stories changing through the years
but as the story changes
so does our faith grow
as we look at the picture
and imagine our mom and dads
setting us on Santa's lap
and we watch our children sit on his lap
All of us searching for our way to Bethlehem,
taking detours, sometimes rough and cracked.
There are no wise men to guide us...
Just the beautiful truth in the gentle story of the word,
Just our need inside our hearts to meet up with the Jesus of the story...
and our memory of the little girl in the red dress.
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