Thursday, December 25, 2014

The Ugly Boxes

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Wrapping paper and empty boxes bore testimony to a frenzy of Christmas gift-receiving. All the presents had been accounted for. That is, all except the collection of terribly homely packages still under the tree. There were no labels, but there were exactly the same number of gifts as people in the room.
The boxes made everyone uncomfortable. No one dared suggest they should open them, or dispose of them. Rather, they busied themselves collecting the trash, organizing the gifts, texting friends and continuing the celebration in other parts of the house. In the kitchen the hostess picked up a pen and pad.
Note to Self: 
Find out who brought those eyesores 
and make sure they don’t do it again.
You, however, could not get those boxes out of your mind. Something about their homeliness made you feel homely, too. Or, worse than homely: ugly. They reminded you of some pretty awful stuff you had entertained in your head and some terribly unkind things you had spoken and foolish things you had done. In fact, now that you thought about it, you felt as though opening one of those boxes might expose all that trash and more for the world to see.
To make it worse, just about the time you did forget about them, there would be the whisper of a breeze near a window or when you stepped outside to glimpse the seasonal landscape. It seemed to beckon you back to the living room… to the boxes.
Finally, you yielded. When you stepped into the living room you were surprised to find two girls and a boy staring at the packages. You would have preferred to have been alone, but now there you were.

In the silence, no one dared do anything until one of the girls announced, “this is “stupid,” and left. The remaining girl took that moment to square her shoulders, mutter “no it isn’t” and seize a box. That gave you and the boy the courage to do the same, but with considerably less boldness. The way she tore into the wrapping surprised you. You wished you had her courage. Instead, you applied more care to the process.
When the girl's eyebrows popped up, the boy asked, “What’s in it?” 
“Just some straw, and a couple nails and a piece of paper with a word on it.”
“What word?” you asked.
Listen.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. What’s in yours.”
You tore away the last of the wrapping and lifted the lid.
“Same thing, but my word is Come.
“Mine says Open,” the boy volunteered.
Before you could think what it might mean, you were startled by a gentle rap on the front door.
Wide-eyed, you exchanged glances. The girl stood. You and the boy followed her to the door. The gentle knock greeted your arrival. The boy grasped the knob, hesitated and then pulled the door open – very slowly.
There, with a most disarming smile, stood a man who looked no different than any other man. Yet, there was something about him which made you think it would be wonderful if he could be your best friend; and then it made you scold yourself for being so foolish as to imagine he would want to be.
“My Father is planning a welcome home celebration for you," he announced. 
Oh! You so much wanted to accept the invitation. But... 

You looked nervously back into the house. The man anticipated your question.
“They won’t know you’re gone. Your body will be here, but your heart will be with me. Some will think you seemed a little preoccupied, but they won’t know why until later, when you can explain it to them.”
You shook your head. “I don’t understand."
“You don’t have to. Just know this, from now on you will live in two worlds, mine and the world which will one day be mine again. And as for the things you thought you would find in the box. You already found those in your heart’s memory. I have paid for all those things. You are forgiven.”
Together you followed him down the sidewalk.
“What about the other boxes?” the girl wanted to know.
“Most will ignore them,” he replied. “Others will take one but they won’t open it. They’ll give it some meaning of their own and treat it like a charm. Some will even set it on a shelf once a year and put lights around it and talk about how special it makes them feel." 


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