Lisa Learns Aloud

The dark before the light.

Charles Dickens A Christmas Carol has long been one of my favorite books. I couldn’t tell you why. I remember sitting upstairs in my room on Christmas Eve when I was about 14, at midnight watching the story on a small television, in black and white. There was probably a small Christmas tree in my room, maybe a few twinkle lights. The story spoke to me. Over the years, it became a personal tradition to stay up on Christmas Eve and watch the movie. The version I eventually settled on starred Alastair Sim. Originally black and white, colorized in later years, Alistar’s interpretation of Scrooge was believable. It rang true. In later years, I read the novella and it is rich with meaning.

A child is at the center of the story, just like a child is at the center of the Christmas story. Scrooge lives in a dark fearful world. Marley is dead like the world is dead before the first Christmas. The Ghost of Christmas Past is an amalgamation Scrooge. From birth until that Christmas Eve he’s been a 100 different people. Every one of them made him into who he is. All those versions of Scrooge and the first ghost, with his shapeshifting glow, illuminate the past. Reluctantly along for the ride at first, Scrooge starts to recover some of the boy he was, the young man he was. He confronts the things that made him fearful and turned him against humanity. Losing love, losing his sister. At the very last he begs the Ghost to stop. The memories are torturing him and you understand why Scrooge’s heart hardened.

The Ghost of Christmas Present makes Scrooge go looking for him. At this point, Scrooge is resigned to go along with the ghost who comes adorned with abundance. You can be forgiven into thinking that the abundance means worldly things, but what the ghost shows Scrooge is the world is full of is love. Nephew Fred is poor in wealth but rich in friendship and love. The gift Fred gives to the world is his ebullient, sunny disposition, gratitude for the things he has, and generosity in his interactions with an uncle that resents and rejects him. Scrooge sees the Cratchits, who are even poorer than Fred. The family is happy, merry, and loving, even though there are reasons for them to despair. Tiny Tim, crippled and weak in health, is strong in spirit. Again Scrooge is confronted with the generosity of the toasts Fred and Bob make in his honor.

Once the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come appears, Scrooge, who is well on his way to redemption, thinks he will be shown his future as a better man. He’s taken to heart Marley’s warning and the other ghost’s lessons. A dead man takes center stage. Businessmen, with no thought for the man only care about the free lunch at the funeral. Scrooge is horrified by the lack of respect, particularly by thieving household staff and the undertaker’s man. Is it because he knows deep down who the dead man is, or is the empathy an indication of his growth? He’s dismayed to find the Cratchit family mourning a dead Tiny Tim. Scrooge begs the ghost to tell him these are things that can be changed. That the future isn’t fixed. Devastatingly, a bony hand points to a headstone and Scrooge is confronted with the knowledge that the dead man is him. Clutching and grasping the hem of the ghost’s robe, he begs for redemption. The ghost dissolves, leaving Scrooge clutching his bedpost.

He wakes, disoriented from his time in the ghostly realm. Rushing to the window, he yells to a boy, and finds himself a wonder that the ghosts did it all in one night. Filled with generosity, he sends the prize turkey to the Cratchits, and walks through the streets blessing everyone he encounters. Seeing the businessmen he refused the day before, Scrooge promises to make restitution for the years of miserly words and deeds. Finding himself on Fred’s doorstep, he enters, apologizes and is welcomed, like God welcomes us, nothing required but repentance.

So we have Scrooge, who was lost to humanity, reclaimed. Most of this story takes place in darkness, like the world before Christ. Christmas Day, though, is pure light. God’s promise to send a child amongst men to conquer death. Humanity, reclaimed, saved from death.

There’s a duality to Christmas. The before, and the after. Christmas happens in mid-winter. Nights are long and dark. It resembles the world before Christ. It was an old world, and death ruled. In my life too, death ruled one night several years ago. I felt the dark keenly and it resided deep within me. I felt like I had lost everything. In despair, I went to church on Christmas Eve. The weather was terrible, and attendance sparse. I looked for comfort but didn’t find it there. My heart was too hardened and dark. I sobbed as I listened to the words and tried to sing the carols. People looked at me kindly, asked to give me hugs and I left church that night not understanding why I was not comforted. On the way home, downtown, lights sparkled in the heavy snow, silent and beautiful. I stopped at the traffic light, the city Christmas tree on my right. Placed there every year, it fills the entire side street. Instead of making the turn toward home, I drove around the block, parking in the lot behind the tree. There were still no cars, no people. I was alone. Exiting the car, I stepped into the middle of the road, looking up at that beautiful Christmas tree, with its large star and twinkling lights and I was filled with comfort. Finally. I thanked God and prayed, standing there until my toes and fingers were cold. Before I left, I took a photograph, the very one at the top of this post. At home, I changed for bed and pulled up the movie I’d been watching since I was 14 and I understood. In the hours, days, weeks, months and years since, the light of Christmas Day and it’s victory over death has kept the dark at bay.