The Christmas That Almost Wasn't

JOYEUX NOEL TOUS! (Merry Christmas All!)

Our love and warmest holiday greetings to all of you at home.  Obviously, we have thought of you often with tender hearts and fond memories that have filled our Christmas stockings to over flowing.  I have had a difficult time getting to this post because of, well, I guess that will be the focus of this blog. Coming to grips with spending Christmas so far from home, and in an entirely different culture, has been somewhat of an interesting process this year.  Putting that process into words will no doubt help me understand better what really happened, and why.

I knew that Christmas here, where such a huge part of the population isn't Christian, might be difficult. I also knew that Brent and I, along with the young missionaries, would be focusing on the the spiritual aspects of the season.  Hence, I decided that I wanted none of the traditional trappings: no tree, no decorations, no lights, no Christmas carols, etc.  Looking back now, I realize it was self-protection.  I did not want to experience anything that would make us homesick for Christmas on 3200 North surrounded by family and friends.  But it all changed one Sunday during a Young Women's lesson when I heard the Priesthood singing Silent Night. The feeling flooded over me that my attitude was "Just Wrong!"  I needed to embrace Christmas on La Reunion; I needed to put up a tree (there was a small one in the closet), make wassail, play carols, and proceed with a heart full of joy that Christmas was upon us once more. So we did exactly that.  We bought a string of red, twinkling lights for the railing; put up the little white paper tree (no lights; it REALLY was paper and we were afraid it would catch on fire), bought a hand-carved creche and a Christmas tablecloth at the Madagascar market, downloaded some beautiful, spiritual carols, and voila, our little apartment had a nice warm Christmas glow.  As Brent and I spent those two weeks reading about the birth of our Savior and His most precious of all gifts to us, we were surrounded by not only familiar feelings, but also by wonderful sounds, sights, and smells.  The peace of the season blessed our lives, the missionaries, and our work here.

On Saturday evening, 15 December, the four missionaries in our area (two sisters and two elders) had no appointments, so the six of us went down to the Barachois (a commercial area by the ocean) to sing Christmas carols.  Remember, many of the people here are Hindu, Buddhist, or Muslim, so we weren't sure what the reaction would be.  There are very few decorations, but the city had put up a huge Christmas tree at the park with some displays, shopping, and family activities.  The park was surrounded by a huge wall with policeman at the entrance.  Some of the more reticent performers in our group (Brent, mostly) wanted to stand across the street in a dark corner, but I marched the group right up to the main gate in front of the arch light (if we're going to do this, people are going to see and hear us) where we stood for an hour singing carols from the hymn book.  It was THE most memorable night!  Some visitors hurried by us, not even looking, but others stopped with their small children and listened, almost reverently.  One man walked up to us wanting to see what the book was we were singing from, so we showed him where we were in the song and invited him to sing along.  He, and his whole family sang several carols with us.  Others stood by us and had their pictures taken.  Some in Hindu attire stood in the shadows and listened.  A group of teenage boys came by, making remarks and acting cool, but when we invited them to sing with us, they did, and their whole attitude changed.  After they quit singing, they sat on a wall and listened until we went home.  We waved and wished them Joyeux Noel.

The missionaries all gathered in our apartment at 11:00 the day of Christmas Eve for five hours of singing, eating, activities, eating, a spiritual message, eating, a white elephant exchange, and more eating.  They all had assignments, and came very well prepared. It was a joyful, joyful day.

Remember when we first arrived here we told you about meeting the granddaughter of the couple Brent baptized in France?  The Saturday before Christmas we had lunch with her and her family and, as a Christmas gift, she presented Brent with copies of the pages from her grandmother's journal that told about meeting the missionaries, hearing the lessons, being baptized, what her testimony meant to her, and their subsequent activities in the church.  It contained pages and pages of her grandmother's personal feelings about the gospel and when the missionaries found her.  Tears flowed as Brent read what his "French mother" had written.  She was a wise and wonderful woman; and for Brent to be presented with those pages is truly a mission miracle.  Christmas in La Reunion...it turned into a great blessing.

We send our love and wishes for a year ahead filled with the richness of all God's blessings to His children.  May we all remember the source of hope...the babe of Bethlehem...and the true gifts of the season.

I joined the St Denis Christmas choir and had the best time with the members; it also helped my French.  Their branch Christmas party was so, so fun, and I was told that the choir sounded great.  I hope so because it is the only choir I have ever sung in where the choir members argued with the director about how the songs should be sung.  A totally new experience for me.  At first I thought they were kidding, but soon realized that they were totally serious.

Again, the St Denis fete (party).  This little Mary just won my heart.  I wanted to take a picture of everyone, but when the shepherds and wise men came, there were so many of them that all you could see were backs.  No one was left out.

Down at the bottom of the island, at St. Pierre, we not only acted out the events of Bethlehem, but also the events of the American continent.  Samuel the Lamanite really took his part seriously.

Aurore Payet, the granddaughter of Brother and Sister Defaye.

Elder Heap reading the journal pages of his "French mother".  The picture on the cover was taken when they were serving a mission at the Swiss Temple.  What an amazing blessing.  When the missionaries were here on the day of Christmas eve, one of them even started to cry when he read it.

A Bientot mes amies!