So if a Christian is touched only once a year, the touching is still worth it, and maybe on some given Christmas, some quiet morning, the touch will take. ~Harry Reasoner
I remember a Christmas Eve in Chile where I served as a missionary. My companion and I were just a few blocks away from the house where we lived. The streets were chaotic. Traffic was backed up and people were honking and shouting angrily at each other.
Suddenly two men burst from a service garage in the midst of an argument and one was swinging a four foot iron bar at the other. He was so angry he wasn't thinking about the fact that he was doing could possibly kill the other person.
We jumped back to avoid them, and then continued up the street. We watched as woman, barefoot and pregnant, was chased out of her house by a man, presumably her husband, with a broken bottle. Thankfully, she was able to get into a neighbor's home.
As we continued up the street, it felt as though my companion and I were in a bubble of heavenly protection. It was such a distinct feeling that I will never forget it.
Once we reached home, I remember praying that somehow the Christmas spirit would enter into the hearts of those people we had just encountered. I think of that night often, and remember the stark contrast between the Christmas spirit and the spirit of contention and hatred that those people were acting on.
I still pray that somehow the spirit of Christmas--the spirit of Christ--will enter and soften their hearts. Who knows maybe someday they will choose it.