Christmas Isn't so White

[Guest]

Every year, Christmas at Jimmy's house was different than at the other kids' houses, but this year, as Jimmy turned seven years of age, these differences invited hostility from other Mormon kids in the neighborhood.

"Pa Pa! Pa Pa!" Jimmy's face flowed with tears and mucus. He jumped into Father's lap and thrust the mess straight into Father's dark green, cashmere sweater.

Jimmy's father frantically searched his pockets for his handkerchief and discovered it on his second pass through his front left -- fagara silk, it had been a present from the dean of the history department at the university where Father taught. Father closed his eyes to muster his strength, and when he opened them, he pulled the little boy's head back and swathed the gunk away from the boy's face and then wiped off his own sweater. Father balled up the handkerchief, and certain that no one was watching, he dropped it behind the couch.

"There, there, little one; now, tell Pa Pa what's the matter," said Father.

"It was...It was Tommy McBean. He told the other kids about our tree and he was laughin' at it and then he said that his dad said our stupid tree doesn't even grow in the North Pole!"

Father hesitated a moment and furrowed his brow. "He...his father, said our tree is stupid?"

Jimmy's face reddened. "No. No he didn't."

"No?"

"No Pa Pa. He said all the other stuff I told you, but I'm telling you our tree is stupid because it is! I hate it. Tommy was right!" The little boy broke into tears and buried his head in Father's chest again.

Father's blood began to curdle. His hands flailed and slapped at his jeans as he contorted himself to get to his back pockets -- where was that damn hanky? He had totally forgotten he'd just thrown it away. He sat up straight and grabbed Jimmy, pulled him off his lap and sat him by his side and molded the boy's body into a proper sitting posture.

"Now son, that's a serious accusation and you know what we've talked about in family home evening about making allegations. And you know what we've talked about in regards to language. We don't say words like the one you just said in this house."

Jimmy's face sank. "I'm so sorry Pa Pa."

"It's quite alright lad, now, we just need to talk about a few things and I think once you take the time to understand, you'll be feeling much better."

Father stood, and as he rose form the couch, the cushion he'd been sitting on sucked its spring back in and buoyed Jimmy up. Father stepped to the Christmas tree and gently ran his fingers along a thin branch and tickled a three-prong leaf. Then he reached higher and poked a white, flowering ball.

"Cnidoscolus aconitifolius," said Father, as he examined the strings of lights swaddling the tree's branches and the tinsel dripping from its leaves, "commonly known as chaya or tree spinach, is a large, fast-growing leafy perennial shrub that is believed to have originated in the Yucatán Peninsula of Mexico."

Jimmy's eyes were wide. Father raised an eyebrow to the boy, as if waiting for his rejoinder. He shook his head and chuckled when no response came.

"The specific epithet, aconitifolius, means 'Aconitum-like leaves'. It has succulent stems which exude a milky sap when cut. It can grow to be 6 meters tall, but is usually pruned to about 2 m for easier leaf harvest. It is a popular leaf vegetable in Mexican and Central American cuisines."

"How do you know all this stuff Pa Pa? How did you get to be so smart?"

Father stepped away from the tree toward the center of the room and gestured at a wall of bookshelves at the wall opposing the tree.

"I've studied all of those book, son. But I suppose I'm stupid compared to the eminent Thomas McBean."

Father paced the room and laughed to himself as he thought about Thomas, and then Thomas's father, who was quite opinionated, but naïve in his thinking about the gospel. Oh, the shock on McBean's face when Father told the High Priest's group that Joseph Smith was only joking about Zelph.

Jimmy sat up straight and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top. "Well, Pa Pa, I am confused. If that tree grows in Mexico, then does it also grow in the North Pole?"

"No. Is that a problem?"

"Well yes, because Santa lives in the North Pole where there is a lot of snow and that's why we have pine trees as Christmas trees, because they live in the snow."

"Pull back the curtains boy, and have a look outside."

Jimmy turned around and kneeled on the cushion of the couch to reach the curtain, opening it just enough to peek outside.

"Do you see any snow out there?" Father asked.

"No."

"It hasn't snowed yet this year, lad. They say we're in for a drought. Now, how do you think Santa is going to get his sleigh through all that asphalt and dirt?"

Jimmy turned back around and plopped onto the middle of the couch, crossed his legs, and then, noticing his stuffed reindeer doll resting upside down against an arm of the couch, he leaned to the side and stretched, and he was just able to grab an antler with his fingers. He reeled the doll in and set it on his lap and hugged it with both arms. Father stood in the middle of the room and looked down at the boy through his glasses, which had slid to the tip of his nose.

"Jimmy, do you remember the story of Alma in the Book of Mormon, and the journey taken to a great battle?"

"The horses...?"

"We didn't call them that, did we? What we taught you is that the Book of Mormon, this most fascinating text, tells us some surprising things. It teaches us that the people of the ancient Americas developed differently than elsewhere around the world; they had no horses or other beasts to ride, they walked everywhere and carried their belongings by chariots, or rather, platforms that they held by hand. They didn't even have wheels. All of this, we learn from the Book of Mormon, and archeologists have confirmed these things many years after Joseph Smith translated the Gold Plates."

"Wow," said Jimmy.

"Now, think about this: there are places in the world where getting around by the wheel works best, and places where its cold and snows, and so sleds are optimal. But wheels aren't great in the snow and sleds are impossible in dirt. Walking will get you through any terrain, however. So you ask Tommy next time you see him what's more plausible, that Santa and his elves ride a sled that can't make it anywhere where there's dirt, or rather, that the elves carry their load by hand, where plausibly, they can reach any place on earth?"

"That's a good question Pa Pa. Let's see what he says to that if he thinks he's so smart. Hey, are you saying that Santa really lives in what you told us was called meso...mesoooammmerica? But what about the reindeer?"

Father's face grew solemn. "Now Jimmy, things are getting a little serious here, but you're a big boy and I expect you to try to understand."

Jimmy put on his serious face and nodded his head.

"Jimmy," said Father, "the Book of Mormon teaches that on these long journeys, that the people took these animals with them, and technically, they weren't horses -- it's a bad translation -- but they were a species of deer. But the deer weren't exactly pulling anything because the people carried their things themselves...do you catch my drift? Did you read the Multidimensional Commentary I sent you a link to?"

Jimmy's lips parted and he shook his head. His little body trembled in suspense.

"Santa and his elves; well, it's a long journey to take all those presents everywhere, and they -- they have to eat." Father tried to imply it as nicely as he could.

Jimmy's jaw dropped and his eyes googled in horror.

"Sanntaaah...Santa...he...ate Rudolf and Prancer?!" Jimmy's little body shook violently and he nearly strangled his doll in his arms. He pushed his face into the reindeer's back and cried.

"Now boy, one of the things we've been trying to teach you kids is that the Book of Mormon isn't the happy little tale that a lot of people in the Church think it is; we've read from A Reader's Guide as a family, and we know the promised land wasn't tamed easy -- life was harsh. Times were dark and gruesome more often than pleasant in this epic and conflicted literary work, and it's a very serious narrative. It's not for the intellectually weak. Now Santa, also being from Mesoamerica, had to do what he had to do to survive just like Alma and the others." Father waved his finger furiously at little Jimmy as he spoke.

"No!" Jimmy sobbed, "no, not Rudolf, not sweet little Rudolf..." He gently stroked the face of his reindeer doll and kissed its cheek softly.

Father continued. "I suppose it's a technical matter but younger animals with less developed muscles have tender flesh...oh, never mind, Jimmy, look -- it's a different herd named similarly every year, probably. And if not Santa and the elves, then it's going to be something else to take the deer down, another predator, probably; one with really sharp teeth. What is worse?

The deer -- or reindeer if you wish to call them that -- probably agreed in the pre-existence to surrender their little lives so all the good girls and boys can get presents. Granted I'm speculating a little here; there is no direct evidence of this, but it is plausible."

Jimmy flopped backwards shrieking. His body was sprawled all over the couch. Father sighed and approached the boy and sat beside him, straightened him up, and then Father put his arm around him. Jimmy sobbed for a long time while Father comforted him.

"Pa Pa," said Jimmy, and he spoke quietly through sniffles, "do I have to get presents this year?"

Father considered Jimmy's question for a moment. Money was a little tight -- No! -- he couldn't do that.

"Jimmy, you know those two bad kids down the street, Ben and Steve, whose father left the Church and now doesn't have a job? Santa surely isn't bringing those kids anything this year, and Tommy might find himself in the same situation one day."

"But why?"

"Well Jimmy, Ben and Steve don't believe in Santa anymore because their dad, who barely graduated high school, quit believing in Santa, and goes around telling people how illogical he thinks Santa is. But what do you think brother McBean is going to say when Ben and Steve's dad ask him how Santa can bring presents in his sled without snow?"

"I don't know Pa Pa. I don't know what he'll say."

"Well, let's be realistic, son, it might shake McBean's faith a little. Let's face it, these silly stories we hear about Santa are just setting us up for disappointment. Our leafy spinach tree might not look as grand as an alderman and elves trudging through the mud carrying presents on a platform aren't so elegant as elves coasting along in a sleek sled pulled by majestic reindeer. And the reality of hunger, of Santa and his men famished from endless trips around the globe, and in need of a viable food source good for long distances, and finding that food source in the local deer population, isn't as cutsey as Santa, elves, and deer all snuggling together and staying warm in the frosty north pole. But it's real, Jimmy. What we have is real."

Jimmy's eyes were heavy and he sat his Rudolf on Father's lap such that the eyes of the toy faced his own.

"Pa Pa. I think I can be strong like you and Santa. Some day, if I'm really hungry, and if I have to eat Rudolf, I think I can do it."

Father chuckled and stroked Jimmy's forehead. "I think it's time for a night cap."

Father stood and gently picked up Jimmy and Rudolf and took them to Jimmy's bed, laid them down side by side, and tucked them in. Now here was a boy who would grow to be a man. A strong and realistic man. A man with the education, and the fortitude, to believe in Santa Claus for the rest of his life, just like Father.

[_Zadok]

And, if by some remote chance, young Jimmy's faith in Santa is ever challenged, there will be isles of Christmas cards at the store where he can go to read and pray, studying out the deep doctrines of the Jolly old Elf himself, and renew his faith to bring everlasting Christmas to his posterity through all generations of time, and throughout all eternity.

[_DrW]

And, if by some remote chance, young Jimmy's faith in Santa is ever challenged, there will be isles of Christmas cards at the store where he can go to read and pray, studying out the deep doctrines of the Jolly old Elf himself, and renew his faith to bring everlasting Christmas to his posterity through all generations of time, and throughout all eternity.

Do I detect a bit of competition in the realm of dry humor for our beloved Moksha and his transcendent state attained as a result of being released from the cycle of rebirth as impelled by the law of karma?

[_Zadok]

Do I detect a bit of competition in the realm of dry humor for our beloved Moksha and his transcendent state attained as a result of being released from the cycle of rebirth as impelled by the law of karma?

Huh? No competition between Moksha and myself at all. I willingly bow to the Penguin's far superior skills. I am but a mere Emu, finding small morsels of humor, all the while basking in the presence of The One True Penguin God!

[_Doctor Scratch]

By golly, Dean Robbers, you've done it again. Late last evening, as I was sipping my doctor-prescribed hot toddy, I read this cautionary tale and tears came to my eyes. A powerful story for us to reflect upon this holiday season!

[_Everybody Wang Chung]

Thanks for the amazing story, Dean.

I can't wait for Part II

[Guest]

Jimmy came running to Father with tears in his eyes -- again. This was becoming a frequent problem.

"Pa Pa! Pa Pa! Why...B-B-Bobby White said 'Merry Smithmas -- ha ha ha!' to me today and said we celebrate Joseph Smith's birthday instead of Jesus's."

Father reached for his antacids in his front pocket, popped off the top, and administered himself a double dose. The neighborhood was filling with anti-Mormons; some were evangelical Christians such as Bobby's family, but yet others were from his own Church.

"There certainly isn't any truth to that lie," said Father. "We do hold a small birthday party for Joseph Smith on Christmas morning, but his birthday is only two days before Jesus's. You have to understand..."

Jimmy cocked his head to the side and sat himself on the carpet. Father also eased his body onto the carpet facing Jimmy, and folded his legs together.

"Jimmy, have you ever heard of the Butterfly Effect? Or better, do you know what a Rube Goldberg machine is?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No Pa Pa, I sure haven't heard of either one."

"Remember last Christmas, Jimmy, when we set up the train on the coffee table, and then at the end of the track stood up dominoes, and then the dominoes broke into several branches, and then we placed rectangular wafers instead of dominoes at the end of the branches, near the edge of the table? You got to push the button, which started the train, and the train zoomed through the tracks and triggered the line of dominoes to fall, and the dominoes branched out and knocked several wafers off the table and into a big bowl of ma's batter? Then we picked out the wafers covered in sweet goo and at them!"

"Sure! I remember that, and you ate the most! Can we do that again this Christmas?"

Father smiled and looked around the room nervously. "We'll need to ask mom about that, but, my point is, a lot of smart people designed and built that train and manufactured the dominoes, and several adults set up the scene, but none of it mattered without one little boy who pushed the button to set the whole thing in motion."

"Yeah, it was all me in the end, wasn't it?"

"It sure was Jimmy. You see, Heavenly Father created everything and Jesus helped Heavenly Father put his plan of salvation in motion. But what if, Jimmy, nobody knew about the plan? How would people be baptized and live the right commandments?"

"Well, they wouldn't be able to be baptized -- and then no one could go to heaven!"

"That's right. Someone has to tell people about the Book of Mormon, which tells us about baptism and corrects the errors of the Bible, and that's what Joseph Smith did; he brought the right gospel to all of us, and nobody could go to heaven without that instruction. So these friends of yours and their parents, they don't understand how crucial Joseph Smith was -- he brokered the whole thing and really, deserves every cent of his commission, but that doesn't mean we worship him. But he's really, really important and deserves to be recognized, and it can be no accident his birthday is so close to Jesus's."

"Ohhh...now I see. Well, I guess it wasn't 'all me' after all in the end was it? You were the one who told me how to push the button."

"Yes, er, that is true, Jimmy."

Jimmy's face beamed as if he'd been immersed and brought forth from a pool of light.

"Now I understand why we have a spinach tree instead of a pine tree, and why he is so important."

Jimmy shot his arm forward and pointed his index finger straight past Father, who was admiring their Christmas tree as they spoke. Father leaned to his side and twisted his head as far as it would go. Jimmy was pointing to the large bookshelf that filled an entire wall. Father squinted with his might to make out exactly what on the bookshelf his son was pointing to.

"you mean, Him?" Father asked?

"Yeah Pa Pa, your teacher friend from school who wrote the book you always read during sacrament meeting."

"indeed..."

Father stared at the picture and shook his head, trying to follow Jimmy's logic. And then it hit him. The professor's picture was in a stand-up frame in the middle of the bookshelf, and to save space, the edge of the frame slightly eclipsed the edge of the frame of Joseph Smith's picture, which slightly eclipsed the edge of the frame of a picture of Jesus.

"That's why he's in front," Jimmy explained, "because without him, people wouldn't know where the Book of Mormon really happened and the Church would soon be in...in...a-p-p-o-stasy, just like you told us. And then Joseph Smith's message wouldn't help anyone, and no one could get baptized right. But something is wrong..."

Jimmy bounced off the carpet and ran for the bookshelves. He found a picture of Father on a neighboring shelf to the pictures he'd discussed and removed it, then he carefully placed the picture next to the professor's picture, with the edge of the frame eclipsing half of the professor's face.

"But if nobody told people on the internet about the professor's book like you do," said Jimmy, "then the professor's book wouldn't matter, and so Joseph Smith wouldn't matter, and no one could get baptized. So in the end, it's all you Pa Pa, you are the most important person in the whole wide world! I always knew it too!"

Father sat stroking his chin. Out of the mouths of babes. The boy's reasoning was as sound as it was valid, and there was not a thing to take issue with.

[_Everybody Wang Chung]

"But if nobody told people on the internet about where the Book of Mormon happened like you do," said Jimmy, "then the professor's book wouldn't matter, and so Joseph Smith wouldn't matter, and no one could get baptized. So in the end, it's all you Pa Pa, you are the most important person in the whole wide world! I always knew it too!"

Father sat stroking his chin. Out of the mouths of babes. The boy's reasoning was as sound as it was valid, and there was not a thing to take issue with.

Pure gold!

It's amazing how many great writers we have on this board.