During the early days of World War II, Irving Berlin wrote and Bing Crosby introduced a song called "White Christmas."  The song was filled with a sense of longing for things as they used to be.  And in a world torn apart by the changes of war, it struck a responsive chord, becoming an instant hit.

     For many of us who lived through those terrible days, the song still has a powerful effect.  It means a great deal to me.  My dad was in the service during that war.  We met him in Atlanta, Georgia, during December, 1942, for a few precious days.  Snow was on the ground.  It was cold and dreary.  And I remember the sense of loss and desolation as my mother, sister, and I hugged and kissed him, then watched and waved until the train disappeared in the distance, swallowed up by the snow.  We didn't know it then, but we would never see him again.

     All through that December of 1942, wherever I went I heard Bing sing "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know...", and there was a deep longing in my heart that matched the longing of the song.

     I didn't really want a "white" Christmas.  I had never seen one, and I didn't like snow then any more than I like it now.  No, what I wanted was a "right" Christmas, where daddies were not forced to go away to war to defend their families.  I wanted a world filled with peace and love and life, where my family, and the families of all other boys and girls would be safe and happy.

     I still have that longing in my heart: a longing for all boys and girls and mothers and daddies to be together with love and laughter and life. 

     I wish I had the power to give a "right" Christmas to everyone.  Since that is impossible, I'm glad I can tell people how to have one for themselves.  The Heavenly Family experienced loss long ago, as the Son went far away to suffer and die so others could live.  For almost two thousand years now, those who have accepted the death of Jesus for their own sins have been able to enjoy a "right" Christmas filled with love.  And where the whole family has accepted Him, Christmas can really be right. 

     With the life of God within us, we have the power to be loving and thoughtful and kind; to do good to others, even if they mistreat us; to care enough to go the second mile.  Instead of anger and strife at Christmas, we can have peace and harmony through Him who loved us and gave Himself for us.  Wouldn't that be wonderful?

     I'm dreaming of a "right" Christmas.  Will you join me?