December 13: True Christmas?

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Perhaps this is a secret code of some sort? Nah, just PeBUH walking across the keyboard to position himself next to me while I blog. He inserts himself with total confidence that he is welcome in the middle of anything we are doing, be that playing ping pong, or sleeping.

As we eat our cheeseburgers tonight, a school night after a busy work day; we will light the third advent candle. I almost forget that it is Sunday, let alone Christmas! Driving through the city, the only decorations on display are the colored flags of the nations attending the Gulf Cooperation Council summit for the next two days. About 2 weeks ago the city started laying tile, planting flowers, and draping flags in preparation for this event (that is planning ahead for this place!) I think they may have even swept up some trash. However, the only place where Christmas decorations can be found are in the malls, salons, private homes, etc. The occasional strain of Christmas music or smell of pine is a rare delight.

Amid this, I find myself once again at the Philippine Embassy Labor Office with a couple hundred disillusioned women in waiting. This poem in "Watch for the Light - Readings for Advent" put my time with these ladies in a different perspective.

No one can celebrate

a genuine Christmas

without being truly poor.

The self-sufficient, the proud,

those who because they have

everything, look down on others,

those who have no need

even of God - for them there

will be no Christmas.

Only the poor, the hungry,

those who need someone

to come on their behalf,

will have that someone.

That someone is God.

Emmanuel. God-with-us.

Without poverty of spirit

there can be no abundance of God.

Oscar Romero

When I arrived at the small room where we meet on Sundays, there were two ladies filling out forms while tears splashed down their fear filled faces. New arrivals, fresh pain, raw emotion. As I tried to comfort & assure them they were safe, one sobbed "but I don't have anything" as she had escaped with just her handbag. Her employer had forced her to strip off her clothes and told her they could be alone since the wife was away.... One lady confided in me that she was hungry. Fortunately, we had brought home baked Christmas cookies to share and I could give her something to hold her till the next meal.

Many of these women were grieving the loss of Christmas as they were used to celebrating it. We talked of these memories. Yet, I could not get away from the thought that women away from home, trapped by circumstances beyond their control, living in a temporary shelter dependant upon others...this was much closer to what the birth day of Christ was really like! Mary could not have dreamed about birthing her baby in a smelly barn away from the comforts of home. There were no twinkling lights and steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Into our neediness comes God-in-flesh! The "poor, the hungry" are most able to appreciate the gift of Christmas I suspect. While I had an overwhelming urge to "fix" the immediate problems of these women, I had to just be with them, hug them, and pray with them as we formed a circle and held hands. God was there among us. Blessed are the poor in Spirit. We were blessed.

During the morning, there was also laughter and rejoicing; 21 ladies had received word their cases were being dropped. They would be transported to the police station, and from there, they would be flown back to the Philippines without their documents on a special flight. It is encouraging to have been there long enough to see that situations do get resolved, even though it seems to take forever.

One very precious girl who is only 22 was among those leaving. She has been there many months and is the one who carried the "Trash to Treasure" project when we were not there. She poured her heart & soul into the creation of these beautiful ornaments. She presented us with the most lovely necklaces she had made for us from beads taken off a pair of jeans. They are such a treasure to Molly & I as we remember this dear girl. She is a Muslim and I saw much of God in her. She hugged me and held on for a very long time while her tears wet my shoulder. Her gratitude was such a gift to me. She was very optimistic about her future: I just hope all the current conflict in her part of the Philippines does not dampen her can-do spirit. I wish I could bring her home with me.