a Christmas story.

Have you ever met someone who had never gotten a present for Christmas?  Who had never decorated a Christmas tree?  Who had never known anyone who went to a Christmas Eve service?

When I lived in Indonesia, I definitely met plenty of people who didn’t celebrate Christmas or didn’t fully understand the Christmas story.  In America, I’ve met plenty of people who thought Santa was more real than Jesus and that gifts were all about spending enough money on other people so that you can get the presents that you really want in return.  In America, there is a sense of fear in sharing the Christmas story, like you might offend someone by telling them that you believe a story is true.  In Indonesia, I didn’t know if I would get kicked out of the country or something if I was too verbal.

Yesterday, a volunteer with Spotlight English and I planned a Christmas party for Chinese students studying in Thailand.  From the beginning of my four months here in Thailand I have thought it was weird that I spend a few hours a week with Chinese students.  A lot of them wear the same clothing every time I see them and are stressed about finals and tests like any normal student.  They plan on getting jobs all over the world or back in China.  They are learning English to improve their lives and future and be business leaders of the world.  We both happen to be in Thailand at the same time, both as foreigners, which means we both get to talk about our home countries.

I told them last week that we would have a Christmas party.  I said they could invite their friends.  The last few weeks we’ve had about twelve students, so I thought the max would be twenty.  We loaded up a taxi with boxes that were donated from the church where our volunteers come from.  We were stuffed in the taxi with gifts and food nestled at our feet and in every vacant space.  They are clear storage boxes filled with instant coffee, laundry detergent, toothpaste and toothbrush, soap, shampoo, baby powder, a nose freshener (this is a weird Asian thing—when people get too close to your personal space, you reach into your pocket and pull out your nose freshener, inhale and get some good smells since the person next to you might smell not-so-good), and an umbrella.    I had a bag of CD samplers that we picked up in the States on sale for $1 each and lyrics printed on cardstock, tied with a bow.  I had a bag of Christmas crackers that we made in class week and then a few bags of snacks and Christmas cookies.  After all, you can’t have a Christmas party without gifts and food!

The students came and definitely invited their friends.  We had twenty-four students—a record high.  Part of me worried that they only came for the gifts.  Part of me didn’t care.  Part of me thought that my American materialism was feeding into even this Christmas party by giving things.  Another part of me thought boxes with necessities would be scorned in America as a lame gift.  Mostly, I was filled with joy that Christians could be known for giving great gifts—even if people just came to take advantage of it.  What an awesome thing to be known for! 

I asked the students if they had ever been to a Christmas party before.  None of them had.  None.  That stunned me.  I asked if any of them had ever decorated a tree in their house.  They laughed.  I asked if they had ever put up a string of lights.  They shook their heads.  “So you have never decorated for Christmas?  You have never been to a Christmas party?”  Negative. 

“Have you ever gotten a gift for Christmas?”  Not really.

This set the stage for a miraculous moment in my life.  What excitement and joy to be the one to celebrate Christmas with a bunch of young adults for the first time!  That I got to be the one to introduce them to shortbread cookies in the shape of a bell or a star.  That I got to be the one who handed them their first Christmas gift.  That I got to be the one to share the story of the very first Christmas to a group who couldn’t be jaded from over-telling.  So I opened: “There are many fun and exciting things about Christmas.  We celebrate and give gifts and eat food because we are so happy.  There are stories of Santa and reindeer, but today I will share with you the story that started Christmas.  This is a story that Christians believe and why we are so happy for this time of year.”

Then I played the audio version of the Christmas story, one that hasn’t been released yet but I got an early copy (the perks of this job!)  It started with an angel appearing to a poor teenager and nine months later, a baby was born and the heavens opened.  The students read along to the audio with their paper copy and I heard them whisper the name “Jesus” just to make sure they pronounced it correctly.  The most beautiful name whispered in the sanctuary of a classroom.  The story ended and my co-leader stood up and said that Jesus has another name which means, “God with us,” and that is why we celebrate so much—because God is with us.  She said all the other stories or traditions don’t matter without this story—the lights and presents and cookies are extras.  I told them that this is a story Christians believe is true and they had to decide if they believed it was true.

Then we opened the Christmas crackers together.  Candy and toys flew and the students were laughing.  They read the verses we had put inside about wise men following a star and the angels declaring: “PEACE ON EARTH to those with whom God is pleased.”  Then we ate food and the shortbread cookies were a hit.  They told me I was lucky that I got to eat cookies like that every Christmas.  I told them shortbread are my mom and Grandma’s specialty and their eyes went wide. 

We also had apples because I found out in China they all give apples to each other on Christmas.  (I told them this is why Chinese people are skinny and Americans are fat—they give apples and we give cookies.  Then a student told me that she thought Americans were more beautiful even if they were heavier, but I didn’t know how to tell her orthodontia and makeup is mainly responsible for that.  I figured the humor would be lost in translation.)

They wanted to know Christmas songs, but I hadn’t prepared for this.  I was trying to think of what songs would make sense.  So we started with the chorus of “Jingle Bells” and I tried to explain “jingle all the way.”  Their favorite part was the “HEY” between repeating the chorus.  We changed to “Silent Night” and I felt self-conscious to sing an a cappella version of the song, but then I figured I needed to get over myself.  When they joined in, I thought the off-pitch and wrong notes had never sounded so sweet—after all, it was their first time singing it.

Then they helped me pass out the boxes that weren’t wrapped and as each box was handed out I said, “Merry Christmas,” and they answered back, “Merry Christmas to you too,” with a slight nervous giggle. 

Afterwards, they took a moment to sing a song in Chinese that means “thank you.”  It was gentle and unified, the way I picture most groups of Chinese.

We left them singing: “We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year,” which was strange also because Chinese New Year is a different time.  They carried with two hands all their gifts and helped us bring extras to the taxi.  The boys put everything in the taxi and waved us off saying “thank you so much.”

It is more blessed to give.  Is that because we always get more?  That Scrooge with all his wealth stored up in the bank is alone and lifeless?  Those singing and laughing and sharing life-giving stories are the ones experiencing community and joy?

My family has packed shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child (with Samaritan’s Purse) my whole childhood.  We would put all sorts of treasures in them and check a box “boy/girl” and an age bracket the contents were appropriate for.  I always thought it would be so cool to pass out the shoeboxes to excited children surrounding a car or truck.  I pictured little girls and boys who wanted dolls or toy cars and how amazing it would be to see them open the gift you had put together.  I never thought I would feel joy by handing out laundry detergent to a 20 year-old who had never received a gift.  I can tell you—it is a joy.  And giving a gift to someone who cannot give you anything back is even more joyous.

Merry Christmas. 

With love from Bangkok.