Going Home

Do you remember the 1982 movie, E. T?  It was the story of a small, extra-terrestrial alien who was left behind when a visit to earth ended in an abrupt exit. It would point skyward and in a yearning voice cry, “Home.” All it wanted to do was go home! When the time came for it to do just that, it promised 10-year-old Elliott Taylor (the boy who befriended it) that even though their homes were a great distance apart, they would always be in each other’s heart.

When I was a little girl growing up on Ossington Avenue in Toronto, my maternal grandmother (lovingly known as Granny) lived less than a ten-minute car ride away. Each time she left our home for hers,  she would always say, “I wish I was home without going.” I could never understand that, knowing we lived so close , but I simply accepted that for my granny, home was just too far away and she wanted to be there. As strange as it may sound, in some ways her longing for home was the same as E.T.’s.

As an adult, I have come to understand my granny’s sentiments. There is a sense of comfort, ease, and familiarity in being in one’s own home. And my granny’s longing to be home without having to go makes sense to me now. Perhaps it was because her home was quieter than ours. Perhaps it was sleeping in her own bed. Perhaps it was knowing where everything was located, such as the loo for night visits.[I remember a night visit Doug made once on our travels. He walked into a wall instead of the doorway to the loo. In his semi awake state, he made the wrong turn, thinking he was at home!]  Or perhaps my grandmother simply felt the warmth and comfort of invisible arms that welcomed her on her return home.

Home. There’s no place like it, especially at Christmas time. Decorated trees with star toppers are gracing  livingroom windows. Lights are twinkling throughout the neighbourhood, and evergreen trees, adorned with multiple lights, are standing like stately soldiers on front lawns. Black Friday deals are calling shoppers to look their way for the best buys, and children are whispering their hoped-for requests to jolly old St. Nick. Church choirs are rehearsing for Christmas concerts, and nativity scenes are emerging with the focus on baby Jesus. Tis the season for going home, for sure, a time for families to gather together, to laugh, to enjoy each other, and to build wonderful memories. But I can’t help thinking of those who are unable to “be home for Christmas,” with the song itself creating a deep ache. Work schedules, distance, financial impossibilities, broken relationships, and life choices make going home impossible. For many, the season is anything but merry and bright. Going home to enjoy the festivities simply won’t happen. The tree will be decorated in their absence.

Sometime ago I read an article about the star we place on the top of our Christmas trees. It began by asking if the Christmas star—also known as the Bethlehem star—is more than just a beautiful ornament we put on our treetops. The article continued by asking if a star really did shine over the stable in Bethlehem so long ago. The answer to these queries is found in Matthew 2 where we read how wise men were prompted by the star to travel to Jerusalem:

“After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod,
Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked,
‘Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?
We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.’ 
…

and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them
until it stopped over the place where the child was.
When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.”
Matthew 2:1-3, 10

Why his star? Why overjoyed? For the Christian today, the Christmas star represents the day Jesus Christ, the Son of God was born. It is His star. He is the Light of the world, and the star is a constant reminder that Light outshines all darkness. No wonder the Magi were overjoyed!

With that thought in mind, may I put out this question to each of us: Is there someone we know who is struggling with being alone during the holidays, who needs to be reminded, or told, of the Light born 2000 years ago? Can we connect with them, whether they are family, friend, or  stranger? Perhaps it’s someone who is suffering with the loss of a loved one, or it’s someone who has lost motivation and purpose? As the weeks move closer to the 25th, may I suggest that we be sensitive to such individuals, to reach out in love, and be mindful of all the blessings we enjoy as we, too, long for the one who is unable to come home for Christmas.

Winter Star – Johnny Reid