(Note: Because of not putting out a Dec. 22 issue, this column was penned prior to Dec. 25, even though it is being published on Dec. 29. –Ed.)
What are you missing this Christmas? Is it the holiday spirit? Is it the enjoyment of buying gifts? Is it a special person? Or is it the meaning?

When I was younger, Christmas was the best time of year. Our family celebrations were wonderful and full of tradition. I think my siblings and I were more responsible for keeping all the traditions going than my parents, who like most, were just happy to get the presents purchased, wrapped and under the tree. We were the ones demanding to do exactly as we did the year before – because it was TRADITION!

But in December 1980, our traditional Christmas went askew. That was the first Christmas our family would spend without my oldest brother, Tim. There was one less present bought, one less place set at the table and his white felt stocking decorated with red and green bells was hung on the mantel, but it was empty.

It was a difficult time filled with quiet stares, silent tears and aching hearts, as we all tried to get through this extremely painful event without spreading our pain and suffering on to each other. Now, 30 years later, there are no tears but lots of chatter about what his wife may have been like and how many children he would have had, and what his farm would have looked like.

And his white felt stocking, decorated with green and red bells, is still hung on the mantel.

While I have no idea what it is like to lose a child of my own, there are many this year who will be spending their first Christmas like we did so many years ago: Lingering over the memories of their little girl opening up her favorite present, touching the paper ornament their little boy made when he was in third grade or wondering why she had to be the one taken from her earthly home.

There is one other set of parents who also walked this rough road. This set of parents were turned away when the mother-to-be was groaning with labor pains, and yet this young couple did the best they could and found shelter to bring a special baby into the world.

You know this new mom kissed him, cuddled him, rocked him and was anxious the first time she couldn’t get him to stop crying. This mom washed Jesus’ dirty hands before dinner, made him wash behind his ears and enjoyed every second he spent on her lap with his head against her chest, running her fingers through his baby-soft hair.

This set of parents were trusted with a little boy who also had to learn to walk and later walked on water, who had to learn to share and later shared his wisdom and knowledge – and who had to learn to obey, who later obeyed his Father to hang on a cross.

Imagine this mother’s heartache as she went through the trauma of losing her son. Knowing there was a divine purpose to his life and death could not have been much comfort as she wept silently at night during waves of unbearable grief. While she must have asked “why him?” she also had to accept the charge of delivering the Deliverer and raising the Redeemer for undeserving people like you and me.

If you’re burdened with grief this Christmas over the loss of a loved one, remember that you’re not alone. That young mother so long ago labored in pain, in a dark, dirty barn, to bring us the Son of God who created you with a purpose. The Son she lost is capable of binding up your broken heart, wrapping you with a peace that passes all understanding and giving you hope of a brighter tomorrow.

Reach out and let Him take your hand to pull you close. Enjoy His embrace and you’ll never feel the same again.

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with questions or comments for Melissa Hart may write to him in care of this publication.