The Magic Barn: Christmas Eve

I was eight years old that Christmas eve. We were not going to church and that was O.K. with me, because I found it hard to behave for a solid hour.

But I had this strange inner urge…to do something. Christmas Eve. They said Jesus was born in a manger with animals around, so where better to go on Christmas Eve than to the Magic Barn?

It was snowing-soft, fast flakes. Perfect. The animals woke up when I entered the barn; they were blinking and confused but not startled. I petted the velvety noses of the horses to reassure them and whispered, “Merry Christmas.” But the magic I was seeking was not in the barn-it must be beyond the barn.

I walked through the corral and the orchard, hands jammed deep in my pockets for warmth, but it must be beyond the orchard, too. I crossed the frozen stream and through the clearing and came to the edge of the woods. How far would I keep walking until I found it? I didn’t even know what it was that had called me out here.

It was dark, past my bedtime, but I could see surprisingly far in the bluish light reflected by the snow: the clearing, the tree line, even a pale yellow dot that was the distant neighbor’s porch light. It was so quiet.

“Silent night,” I thought. But wait, it wasn’t silent. When I got very, very still, I was amazed that I could hear the snow fall. “Ssssssssss,” was the sound, very soft. I never heard the snow fall before. Or since. I felt…God…Life, all around me, time stood still and I felt wrapped in the arms of forever-ness. I knew that I was part of something very good.

When Life calls you, go. But remember, unless you get very, very still, you will just keep walking in the night and miss it.

The Magic Barn on Amazon