Edith Wharton said, “There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” I think of our light as our spirit. My interpretation of this quote is that I have two choices only: I can choose to shine my light, or I can help someone else’s light shine in this world.
I’ve always hated Christmas, since it was the worst time of the year for me growing up. It took me almost a lifetime, but I learned what Christmas was all about, and for me, it is about the light.
I spent every Christmas at my dad’s house, really it is his wife’s and her daughter’s house. Although he paid for half of the mortgage, he has already told us that the house will not be in our will, instead, it will go to his wife’s daughter, my step-sister. Every Christmas was all about my step-sister, who is five years older than me. The gifts I received were mostly copies of my step-sister's, so she wouldn’t get jealous of me. She received at least twice as many gifts as I did. I would sob to my father saying it wasn’t fair, but he and his wife insisted that we received exactly the same number of gifts and I was acting ungrateful and told to shut up. I heard "shut up" a lot at Christmas time. On Christmas morning, I’d open my gifts very slowly so I wouldn’t be done before my step-sister. I’d clean up after myself, just so I’d have something to do. I’d organize my gifts neatly, but she’d still be opening presents hours later, and after each gift she’d say, “Look Marsh! Look what I got! Isn’t this beautiful!” In fact her gifts were nice clothes, silk blouses, and fine china dolls – things I wouldn’t get. I wanted to be happy for her, but the pain was unbearable. The rest of the day she’d go on about how much she loved all of her gifts. I learned humility before I even knew what it was. Each year she got even more presents than the previous year, and I’d learn to hope for nothing, and especially to shut down all the feelings other children associated with Christmas, and wait until the day was finally over.
At home with my mom, weeks before Christmas she’d tell me, “You can’t stay here for Christmas. I don’t want you here. Do you hear me? I don’t want you here!” No matter what home I lived in, my mother’s or my father’s wife’s home, I had no home, that’s what Christmas was for me. To this day I still think of myself as a gypsy, with no home. My "theme song" has always been "Melissa" by the Allman Brothers. "No one knows the gypsy's name..." My "sweet Melissa" will always be Mount Tamalpais, where I've always felt at home.
I was in college, which I paid for myself, the first time I heard the saying “I am a child of God.” A child of God! It was a breakthrough. I could embrace life as a child of God. Not as the ignored child that I’ve always been to my father, my step-mother, my step-sister, my mother, my brothers, my grandparents. After this revelation, Christmas took on a new meaning. As a child of God I could see Christmas as a spiritual time. You have to understand, for me it was all about my step-sister and being told to "shut up." Nothing else. For the first time, while I was on my own, I could see Chistmas was no longer about the seemingly endless gifts I saw another older child receive, it was about the birth of Jesus. That he was a child of God and so am I. I felt transformed knowing not only that I mattered to God, but that we all do.
Today in church, the pastor talked about how we become the child of God when we believe in him. That Jesus was made of the flesh of God. In the “flesh”, he brought God’s message through his own teachings. When we act on these teachings, like practicing “love” or “compassion” or “humility” we make that word part of our “flesh.” For me, these words brought home the meaning of Christmas and of a meaningful life. I continue to learn beautiful Christmas can be. Just as I continue to grieve for the childhood I lost. Recently my father admitted that my step-sister did get more gifts than me, but it was his wife's choice and he couldn't stop her. He tried, but he couldn't. I respect him for telling me that, but knowing my father abandoned me and lied to me about it, is the kind of betrayal few people will ever experience.
It’s why I am so delighted to be alone on Christmas. For me, it is a time of reflecting on myself, Jesus, Christ, God, and all the people who I love. The human spirit is so resilient. When I see Christmas lights or candles this time of year I am reminded of the spirit within us all. I am not God. I do not want to bring the whole world of people into my heart – I’ve lived through hell and the people who made my life hell still live and breathe in my life. But I have a choice, of what I want to do this time of year. I chose to be the light. To try to do what is right. Sometimes, that means not pointing out a lie my co-worker just made to me. Sometimes that means avoiding people like that co-worker, and finding people who are genuine, loving, and want to make a better world for us all, not just for themselves. I woke up to that every year on Christmas throughout my childhood. I know the destructive power of selfishness.
Part of the sermon today was that we can all harness our strength and act on that strength, to make it “flesh” and in doing so become a child of God. The pastor said, if we see a need in the world, and we have a gift, we can bring our gift into the world to make a differnce. I say, to shine. For example he said, “The world needs people who perform small acts of kindness.” That’s what I like to do. Amazing because so little kindness was ever bestowed to me by my family, but it’s what I love to do. I also love to write. This is my gift that I want to share with the world. I believe there is a place for my words in this world. If it feels as good to write about as it does for someone to read, for even just one person, then it is worth it to me to share my words. To share my light. For I am a candle, who is burning bright.
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