Post # 57 --In Search of the Christmas Spirit
Dear Family and Friends
In today’s post I would like to share
the Frist Presidency message from the December issue of the 1987 Ensign, titled:
“In Search of the Christmas Spirit” by President Thomas S. Monson, who was the Second
Counselor in the First Presidency at the time. He talks about Temple Square and
how the thousands of lights lighting up the square, and the traditional
nativity scene, with the carolers singing as we walk through the Square. The lighted
statue of the Christus. He tells of a visit that he made to the Primary Children’s
Hospital and then of a story about a boy named Michael, who wins a shopping
spree in a toy store for five minutes. During his thoughts of their experiences
with Christmas he shares the following quote:
“The
true Christmas spirit is never found in a surfeit of things. It is less
obvious in arrival and more lasting in impact.”
I have always loved
the stories that President Monson has told over the years, he seems to be able
to put things into perspective in our lives and help each of us know that we
are loved and that we can truly apply gospel principles into our daily lives if
we sincerely try to do so. I think you will agree with me just a little bit
after reading a few of his talks. Who knows, maybe even after reading his
stories below😊
- December 1987
- In Search of the Christmas Spirit
Second
Counselor in the First Presidency
Temple
Square in Salt Lake City is known throughout the world. It is particularly
attractive at Christmastime, with its thousands of twinkling lights,
traditional nativity scene, carolers singing those songs so dear to us all,
and, of course, the lighted statue of the Christus, which seems to say to the
world, “The spirit of Christmas is indeed the Christ spirit.”
As
I make the long-awaited family trek to Temple Square each year to observe its
Christmas adornment and to renew more vividly the meaning of this special
season, my thoughts inevitably turn back to Christmases of long ago, and there
courses through my memory a cherished experience.
As
a very young elder, I was asked to join the president of my quorum in a visit
to the old Primary Children’s Hospital, situated then on North Temple Street in
Salt Lake City, to provide blessings for the sick children who desired to
receive them. As we entered the large front door, we noted the Christmas tree
with its bright and friendly lights. Carefully wrapped packages were spread
beneath its outstretched limbs. Then my heart was penetrated and my spirit subdued
as I read a specially prepared message that had been framed and placed on the
wall:
I wonder, what does Christmas mean,
With its stars and shiny balls?
Is Christmas more than Christmas trees
And toys and games and dolls?
Of this I’m sure: There’s something more,
For I’ve heard many say
That in a strange and far-off land,
A child was born this day.
And Christmas is to celebrate
His coming from above.
He showed us how we all should live
And told us we should love.
We
walked through the long corridors in silence. It was a hallowed scene. Tiny
boys and girls—some with a cast upon an arm or upon a leg, others too ill to
stand or sit—stared with looks of appreciation. We walked toward the bedside of
a small boy, who greeted us with the question, “What are your names?” He then
asked, “Will you give me a blessing?” The blessing was provided, and, as we turned
to leave his bedside, he whispered a reverent “Thank you.” We walked a few more
steps and then heard his feeble call, “Brother Monson.” We turned and heard him
say, “Merry Christmas to you,” and a bright smile flashed across his
countenance. That little one had the Christmas spirit. It was contagious. We
walked from the hospital more appreciative of our priesthood callings, more
grateful for our blessings. We had received the Christmas spirit.
How
different was this boy when compared with seven-year-old Michael and his
Christmas experience? The newspaper heading read “Christmas Spirit Comes to
Michael,” then continued: “For five minutes on Saturday morning, Michael lived
in a fantasy world that seven-year-olds dream about. He spent the five most
exciting minutes of his life in a toy department hauling away every item he
could put into, onto, around, and through a grocery cart. And it was all for
free.
“That
dream-come-true was his prize for winning a contest which sought the number of
lights on Salt Lake City’s community Christmas tree. His guess was 9,624—one
shy of the 9,625 lights on the 65-foot tree which stands on Main Street.
Bespectacled, dressed in tennis shoes so he wouldn’t slip, and with his two
front teeth missing, Michael took the controls of a giant grocery cart he
barely could see over at exactly 11:00 A.M.
“Five
minutes later … his toy list included a bicycle, two road raceway sets, a tommy
gun, camping set, western rifle, a long toy snake, a dart set, an astro- track
space toy, and countless small cars.
“Remaining
amazingly calm throughout the five minutes, Michael attracted a large crowd of
shoppers who moved aside as he pushed his cart through the aisles.”
As
I read the account, the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson seemed to acquire a new depth
of meaning: “Rings and jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only
gift is a portion of thyself.” (Essays: The Poet.)
The
true Christmas spirit is never found in a surfeit of things. It is less
obvious in arrival and more lasting in impact.
An
unknown author wrote:
I am the Christmas Spirit.
I enter the home of poverty, causing pale-faced
children to open their eyes wide in pleased wonder.
I cause the miser’s clutched hand to relax and thus
paint a bright spot on his soul.
I cause the aged to renew their youth and to laugh in
the glad old way.
I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood and
brighten sleep with dreams woven of magic.
I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways with filled
baskets, leaving behind them hearts amazed at the goodness of the world.
I cause the prodigal to pause a moment on his wild,
wasteful way, and send to anxious love some little token that releases glad
tears—tears which wash away the hard lines of sorrow.
I enter dark prison cells, reminding scarred manhood of
what might have been, and pointing forward to good days yet to come.
I come softly into the still, white home of pain; and
lips that are too weak to speak just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude.
In a thousand ways I cause the weary world to look up
into the face of God, and for a little moment forget the things that are small
and wretched.
I am the Christmas Spirit.
This
is the spirit each true Christian seeks. This is the spirit I pray each may find. This
is the Christ spirit. No quest is so universal, no undertaking so richly
rewarding, no effort so ennobling, no purpose so divine. The Christmas season
seems to prompt anew that yearning, that seeking to emulate the Savior of the
world.
This
search for Jesus is not new. In his touching and tender farewell to the
Gentiles, Moroni emphasized the importance of this search: “And now I, Moroni,
bid farewell. … I would commend you to seek this Jesus of whom the prophets and
apostles have written.” (Ether 12:38, 41.)
For generations, enlightened mankind anxiously sought the fulfillment of
prophecies uttered by righteous men inspired of God. For did not Isaiah
declare: “Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his
name Immanuel.” (Isa. 7:14.) And again, “For unto us a child is born … and his
name shall be called … The Prince of Peace.” (Isa. 9:6.)
On
the American continent, God’s prophet declared, “The time cometh, and is not
far distant, that with power, the Lord Omnipotent … shall dwell in a tabernacle
of clay. … He shall suffer temptations, and pain. … And he shall be called Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” (Mosiah 3:5, 7–8.)
Then
came that night of nights when the angel of the Lord came upon shepherds
abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock, and pronounced, “For unto
you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.”
(Luke 2:11.)
Did
these shepherds, personally invited to undertake a search for the babe wrapped
in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger, concern themselves with the
security of their possessions? Did they procrastinate their search for Christ?
The record affirms that the shepherds said to one another, “Let us now
go even unto Bethlehem. … And they came with haste.” (Luke 2:15–16;
italics added.)
Wise
men journeyed from the East to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is he that is born King
of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship
him. … When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy. And when
… they saw the young child with Mary his mother, [they] fell down, and
worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto
him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.” (Matt. 2:2, 10–11.)
With
the birth of the babe in Bethlehem, there emerged a great endowment—a power
stronger than weapons, a wealth more lasting than the coins of Caesar. This
child was to become the King of kings and Lord of lords, the promised
Messiah—Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
Born
in a stable, cradled in a manger, He came forth from heaven to live on earth as
mortal man and to establish the kingdom of God. During His earthly ministry, He
taught men the higher law. His glorious gospel reshaped the thinking of the
world. He blessed the sick. He caused the lame to walk, the blind to see, the
deaf to hear. He even raised the dead to life. To us He has said, “Come, follow
me.”
As
we seek Christ, as we find Him, as we follow Him, we shall have the Christmas
spirit, not for one fleeting day each year, but as a companion always. We shall
learn to forget ourselves. We shall turn our thoughts to the greater benefit of
others. This noble transition is exemplified by an entry dated 24 December
1847, in the pioneer diary of Mrs. Rebecca Riter. She describes that first
Christmas in the valley of the Great Salt Lake: “The winter was cold. Christmas
came and the children were hungry. I had brought a peck of wheat across the
plains and hid it under a pile of wood. I thought I would cook a handful for
the baby. Then I thought how we would need wheat for seed in the spring, so I
left it alone.”
We
are prone to say, “Oh, those were difficult times, times of stress and trial,”
and they were. But I would also reply, “These times in which we live are also
difficult times in their own way.” There is no shortage of opportunities to
forget self and think of others. Such opportunities, however limitless they may
be, are also perishable. There are hearts to gladden. There are kind words to
say. There are gifts to be given. There are deeds to be done. There are souls
to be saved.
Go gladden the lonely, the dreary;
Go comfort the weeping, the weary;
Go scatter kind deeds on your way—
Oh, make the world brighter today.
(Deseret Sunday School Songs, no. 197.)
If
we remember, “When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in
the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17),
we will not find ourselves in the unenviable position of Jacob Marley’s ghost.
When he spoke to Ebenezer Scrooge in Dickens’ immortal A Christmas Carol,
he spoke sadly of opportunities lost. Said he, “Not to know that any Christian
spirit working kindly in its little sphere, whatever it may be, will find its
mortal life too short for its vast means of usefulness! Not to know that no
space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused! Yet such
was I! Oh! such was I!”
Marley
added: “Why did I walk through crowds of fellow-beings with my eyes turned
down, and never raise them to that blessed Star which led Wise Men to a poor
abode! Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted me!”
(In The Best Short Stories of Charles Dickens, New York: Charles
Scribner’s Sons, 1947, p. 435.)
We
can learn a treasured lesson from the pen of Dickens and from the example of
Christ. As we lift our eyes heavenward and then remember to look outward into
the lives of others, as we remember that it is more blessed to give than to
receive, we, during this Christmas season, will come to see a b
right,
particular star that will guide us to our precious opportunity.
right,
particular star that will guide us to our precious opportunity.
Such
was the experience of a Sunday School class some years ago when a wise teacher
placed aside the manual one Sunday morning as Christmas approached. With her
class members listening in, she telephoned me. I was serving then as the bishop
of a large ward situated in the central part of Salt Lake City. The teacher
inquired, “Are there any poor in your ward—people who need a sub for Santa?”
She then described her own neighborhood as one of affluence and mentioned that
she wanted her class to remember this particular Christmas. I responded that
our members had the necessities of life but mentioned a family that would
welcome a special experience—one that would also greatly benefit her young
class members.
The
family I had in mind had recently emigrated from war-torn Germany and had
rented a humble, older home in our area. The children were new to America, and,
while they were learning to speak our language, they were shy and reluctant to
mingle with others. Their personal possessions were few; they had lost so much
during the war.
In
a private telephone conversation with the teacher, I suggested an appropriate
evening when her class could accompany her to our ward meetinghouse and
together we would journey to the home where the Mueller family lived. Again the
teacher stated that she wanted her choice class to remember the true meaning of
Christmas. I responded, “Could I suggest, then, that each child bring with him
or her a gift that has a special meaning to the individual; a gift the person
treasures and would rather keep for himself.”
Just
four days before Christmas, the class journeyed to our ward. Several adults
brought them in large, expensive automobiles. Such an array of wealth had never
before graced the parking area. We then walked to the Mueller home, singing
carols along the way. The laughter of the children and the hurried pace of
their steps reflected the anticipation of Christmas.
It
was at the Mueller home, however, that the frills of Christmas became the
spirit of Christmas. I watched as one girl looked into the eyes of one of the
Mueller children, a girl about her age, then tenderly handed her a beautiful
doll she had received on her own birthday, a gift she herself loved. She
anxiously told her newly found friend how to dress the doll and hold it ever so
tenderly in cradled arms. I observed a normally rowdy boy take from his left
hand his genuine leather baseball glove, which bore the replica signature of
Joe DiMaggio, and place the glove on the left hand of a German-speaking boy who
had never seen, far less worn, a baseball glove. He then explained how to catch
the baseball in the special pocket of the glove, which he had hand prepared
hour after hour with a particular oil. Such was the experience of each child
with each gift.
As
we left the Mueller home and walked back to the meetinghouse, not a word was
spoken. One could hear the crunch of the newly fallen snow as young feet,
guided by happy hearts, made the two-block journey. We entered the building,
there to have donuts and apple cider. In the blessing that was asked upon the
food, a beautiful girl, her voice choked with emotion, described the feelings
of all as she prayed, “Heavenly Father, we thank Thee for the best Christmas we
have ever had.” That night, as children who had found the real spirit of
Christmas filled the automobiles, left the parking lot, and disappeared into
the darkness, I recalled the meaningful words from the hymn “O Little Town of
Bethlehem”:
How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of his heaven.
No ear may hear his coming;
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him, still
The dear Christ enters in.
(Hymns, 1985, no. 208.)
And
so He had. The quest for the Christmas spirit had been rewarded.
Here are some thoughts that were at the end of this Presidency message to share with the families that each home-teacher visited so long ago, I wanted to share them with you as well. There are some questions as well, if you want you can find them here:
https://www.lds.org/ensign/1987/12/in-search-of-the-christmas-spirit?lang=eng&_r=1
- The true spirit of Christmas is the spirit of Christ. We best commemorate Christmas by remembering whose birth and teachings we honor.
- The gift our Heavenly Father wants us to offer him is the gift of obedience.
- The giving of gifts at this season should have the spirit of Christ in it.
- The spirit of Christ can be found and treasured by each of us at Christmas if we concern ourselves with the care of others.
I found out that this talk is also in a book.: 
As always, I hope, and I pray that each of you have felt
the Spirit as you have been reading my blog. And that you have enjoyed this
message and I hope you are participating in the Light the World campaign with
us this month. So, until my next post, get out there and give a gift to our
Savior, Jesus Christ. Remember, He is the )reason for the season😊
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