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She turned from the window and looked around at her richly decorated apartment. There was no Christmas tree. There were no Christmas decorations. There weren't even Christmas presents. And why should there be? The magic of Santa Claus and the enchantment of the virgin birth had long since dimmed, and she was alone.
She sighed in bitter disappointment at the thought that Christmas was supposed to be a time for joy, a time for love. The goodwill of the season had surely passed her by. She sighed again. If this was Christmas, then she didn't need any of it. Christmas Eve, and she was all alone again. This year, she would forget that Christmas even existed.
She grabbed her keys from the marble coffee table, locked the door and headed downstairs to her car. As she pulled out from the underground parking lot, she noticed that tiny snowflakes were beginning to fall.
She drove her black BMW down the freeway until she reached the country. She pulled onto an exit and turned right onto a deserted little road. Bigger and bigger snowflakes were beginning to fall. There were already a good ten centimetres on the ground. But, unlike in the city, the snow was a welcome and pleasant change. In the city, snow turned into brown mush the day after it had fallen, but here in the country, the snow seemed to frost the little ginger-bread houses, giving them an enchanted look.
The black BMW continued on the deserted road for quite some time, until it hit a patch of black ice and careened into the ditch. The woman hit her head upon impact, and was tossed into unconsciousness.
Hours later, two beams from the headlights of an old, run-down farm truck pierced the darkness. It was still snowing, and the black BMW could barely be seen in the darkness under a layer of snow. The truck slowed, and two curious faces peered out, trying to guess the cause of the accident. There were no apparent grisly details, nothing to concern themselves about, so they sped up and drove away.
During the night, quite a few cars passed the ditched BMW, but none of them stopped. Some people were just too busy; some were afraid of what they would find. Some were just too worried about Christmas to remember what it was all about.
And so, hour after hour, the woman lay in the freezing car, unconscious, and no one stopped to help her. In that black BMW, ditched at the side of a country road, the woman froze to death, never having found the true meaning of Christmas. She never gathered with her family around a Christmas tree to sing Christmas carols. She never experienced that it is better to give than to receive. She never experienced the giving that happens at Christmas or the love that is shared. Most of all, the woman died alone, without ever being shown what Christmas is all about. She died without knowing that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of her Saviour.
Jen Pauls is a student at Mennonite Educational Institute and attends Northview Community Church in Abbotsford, B.C.
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