A Silent Night
101 years ago this Christmas Eve, a miracle happened.
But miracles happen every Christmas Eve, don't they? After all, the holiday season is a time when we expect miracles. This miracle was special though. It's a miracle we need today.
It was bitterly cold on the front lines of arguably the bloodiest war in history. The Germans and their allies sat entrenched across from the British and their allies. They hadn't stirred for weeks, and dead lay scattered on the field. The earth cried.
And it was Christmas Eve.
The silence of the snow and silenced men muffled the spirit of the season. Or did it?
Some tired, hungry soldier hums a song of home, clinging to a piece of normal. The song carries, and soul after homesick soul joins the hymn.
"Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin Mother and Child, holy
Infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace."
One soldier stands. All it takes is one, right? And the others join, both sides. They're no longer enemies, they are joined by the spirit of home and humanity. They put down the guns.
Can we? Can we put down the verbal guns and sing? It can once again be a silent night. We can once again see a miracle.
The clamor of evil and silence of justice try to muffle the spirit of the season, but it only takes one to put the hate down.
"Silent night, holy night, wondrous star, lend thy light;
With the angels let us sing,
Alleluia to our King.
Christ the Saviour is born,
Christ the Saviour is born."
But miracles happen every Christmas Eve, don't they? After all, the holiday season is a time when we expect miracles. This miracle was special though. It's a miracle we need today.
It was bitterly cold on the front lines of arguably the bloodiest war in history. The Germans and their allies sat entrenched across from the British and their allies. They hadn't stirred for weeks, and dead lay scattered on the field. The earth cried.
And it was Christmas Eve.
The silence of the snow and silenced men muffled the spirit of the season. Or did it?
Some tired, hungry soldier hums a song of home, clinging to a piece of normal. The song carries, and soul after homesick soul joins the hymn.
"Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin Mother and Child, holy
Infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace."
One soldier stands. All it takes is one, right? And the others join, both sides. They're no longer enemies, they are joined by the spirit of home and humanity. They put down the guns.
Can we? Can we put down the verbal guns and sing? It can once again be a silent night. We can once again see a miracle.
The clamor of evil and silence of justice try to muffle the spirit of the season, but it only takes one to put the hate down.
"Silent night, holy night, wondrous star, lend thy light;
With the angels let us sing,
Alleluia to our King.
Christ the Saviour is born,
Christ the Saviour is born."
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