Give Your Heart

By Luciana Ballesteros-Heras

It was Christmas Day, and the new-fallen snow had transformed the world into a resplendent kingdom of blinding whiteness. Amidst this mystical land of winter was lovely Miss Marie Lawrence, a prim but amicable schoolteacher, and her mischievous young pupil named Charlemagne Evans, who wore a weary and despondent expression on his boyish face. Although he was rich in courage, he was poor in love, for his parents could hardly be seen as prominent figures in his life.

Miss Lawrence’s angelic eyes gazed into his, and she beckoned to the mournful boy,

“Come to church with me, Charlie.”

Charlemagne’s arrogant spirit subsided. He obeyed his teacher and sulked alongside her. Their journey was short and silent, for Miss Lawrence did not dare to sully her student’s maturity with sympathizing inquiries. Finally, they came to a gorgeous cathedral filled with faithful townsfolk. Miss Lawrence had dressed in the most festive and elegant manner, but dear Charlie’s attire was of rags and tatters.

Although this story may seem to be random and quite disordered, it is not the account of Charlemagne’s first appearance in church nor of Miss Lawrence’s fondness over a riotous child. It is truly about the events that happened in the Church. These occurrences may only be perceived by those who are either young enough to imagine or old enough to remember.

Directly above the sanctuary was a distinguished Rose Window. It portrayed the Holy Spirit as a dove flying up into the heavens carrying with Him all His joy and glory. At the first chord played by the grand organ, He leapt out of the window and began soaring above the congregation. As if on cue, three regal, golden thrones appeared above the Alter. The Dove swooped down to a fiery red flame and brought out the Father and the Son. The Father’s image was not as clear as the Son’s, but from what Charlie was able to discern, He looked just as Love itself would have felt if Charlie had had any with which to feel. The Son, on the other hand, was dressed in royal vestments of white, silver, and gold, and a dazzling crown was placed upon His head. These Two took their places in the floating throne-room. Soon after, the Queen of Angels arrived. Charlie thought her to be the most beautiful mother a child could have, but likely that was because her Child wasthe Prince of Peace. Her brown, wood-colored hair cascaded down her sky-blue garments, and her crown was not of glimmering jewels but of brilliant stars. Mother Mary gracefully seated herself on the third throne.

They were so royal, so majestic, so exceptionally magnificent that Charlie had hardly paid any notice to the saints crowding the soaring ceilings of the church. Nearest to the throne-room were jolly St. Nicholas and brilliant St. Lucia, both dressed in red and white. St. Martin, St. Francis, St. Clair, St. Valentine, and St. Faustina were also present in the jovial celebration, with each of their hearts abounding with felicity and gladness.

Previously, Charlie had viewed Mass as a time during which he was commanded to sit still, but the glorious People who flew deftly above him were not images of dignity or composure. They danced, they sang, and they rejoiced with gleeful spirits. Not long after this outbreak of sheer gaiety, another party of guests appeared to join in the celebration. A choir of Angels surrounded the church, singing songs of praise with the most melodical voices. The heavenly choir joined with the earthly one in the most mellifluous music Charlie had ever heard. However, amidst these festivities, attention was drawn to the Son, Who, of course, was the reason for the great jubilee.

The mass ended, and the young child, entirely unfamiliar with all he had just seen, awed, and marveled at its splendor.

Upon exiting that lovely place, he looked into himself and found a change—and a rather peculiar one as well. Prior to this ceremony, this outbreak of delight, this exaltation of joviality, Charlie considered himself a poor, penniless boy, who had nothing of which to call his own. He had no father, no mother, no possessions to claim. However, to his amazement, he was entirely wrong. He had a Father, evidently, who looked into His boy only to find beauty and profundity. He had a mother, so tender and loving that her children’s safety was more valuable to her than her own, and certainly he had a Friend—a Friend so loyal that He laid down His life for the sake of his—Charlie’s.

On this blithe day of mirth, children, as well as adults, must forget longing for what they do not have and give to this loving and loyal person what they do possess. Thus, give your heart to Jesus whose birthday we celebrate today.

Illustration by Khanh Nguyen

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