A Christmas Story

Posted to facebook Dec. 18th
As Christmas draws near I am reminded of my first Christmas away from home, many years ago, in Sydney Australia.  I had been living and travelling in Australia for seven months, usually with a few other people, however, as we settled in Sydney for Christmas, many went their own ways to spend it with family and friends.  I ended up with no real plans for Christmas day except a general invitation from a few others I didn't really know, from the hostel I was staying at, to join them on Bronte Beach.

This Christmas was not only away from family and friends, but it was away from all my usual experiences of decorations, and shopping, and shorter days, and snow.  There was really nothing about this experience that was feeling like my usual Christmases.  I did what I could, I wrote a bushel of Christmas cards to family and friends, I went and bought myself an extravagant treat of Kahlua and smoked oysters, but I was still feeling a bit of a hole where Christmas would be, and I wasn't sure how to fill it.

I set off Christmas morning, to join the others on Bronte beach, not because I really wanted to spend time with them, but because I didn't know what else to do.  As I made my way towards the train station, I could hear and feel that there were footsteps coming up behind me.  As they passed me, I looked up into the friendly face of a young guy who said hello and wished me a Merry Christmas.  I returned the wish, and as I spoke he realized I was not from Australia, which started a conversation.  In the brief, but oh so real, conversation that followed we identified that we were both away from home for the first time, and what that was like for us.

It was a sharing that lasted about one and half blocks, and a life time.  The connection had as much depth and closeness as relationships that have built over years.  We came to the point where we started to head in our own directions.  He stopped, walked back and kissed me, wished me 'Merry Christmas' again, and then we carried on our ways.  We both knew that whatever had transpired between us was a Christmas 'Gift'.  It was the true meaning of Christmas.  It wasn't the snow, or family and friends, or presents, or turkey dinner, that made Christmas, it was an opening, sharing, and connecting of one heart with another.  It may not seem like much on paper, but it was enough of a LOP moment for me to be remembering, and sharing it as a Christmas story, 23 years later.

Wishing you an open, connecting, LOP Christmas, that leaves footprints in your heart for years to come.