The last week of Christ had rushed into the life of the young mother, too busy minding her three and five year olds to even think about Christmas shopping. But the mandatory ritual had to be faced, and she had no option but to brave the energy-sapping heat and the maddening crowds, and inevitably with those two youngsters in tow! Soon it became clear that the success of her shopping expedition was inversely proportional to the time and energy sapped out by wondering aimlessly through a mind-numbing cacophony and the rushing throng of bodies. Not to mention the stealth of hand of her two screaming charges snatching at whatever they could reach from that infernal maze of shelves and glittering tinsel. What had happened to that peace and good will the angels had sung about long ago?
Suddenly, that magical window, depicting that magical scene! Unexpectedly Christmas worked its magic, and those two turbo-charged bundles of unleashed energy rushed to that large shop window portraying the ancient Christmas scene. Eyes wide open, and hands and nose flattened against the glass, they just looked at the crib in amazed and amazing silence. Mum caught her breath in a God-sent instant of relief, and grasping the opportunity offered her in that brief moment of true Christmas peace, she proceeded to describe to the three-year-old the various characters of the ancient story. Pointing out Mary and Joseph, and of course the shepherds with their flocks, not forgetting the animals in the crib, and most of all, the little child in the middle of the scene, she instructed with sincere passion, ‘That is little baby Jesus’; yes, the baby Jesus, whose birthday they would celebrate in a few days. It was then that the five-year-old turned into a profound theologian.
With the expression of inquisitiveness and surprising insightfulness, he looked up and asked, ‘But Mummy, he is just like last year! Does Jesus ever grow up?’.