Obie's Magic Forest

"But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart."

Things started to go downhill for Obie Amato right after the family got home from the Christmas Eve service. Before he even had a chance to blow out his candle after the last hymn, his Mom was rushing them out the door. “We have to hurry and get home! I’ve got a ham in the oven.” All Obie had time to do was to wave to his friend, Greg, across the sanctuary and then run out the door.

At home it got worse. He and his sister, Meredith, both had presents to wrap and unfortunately they were presents for each other so they had to wrap in separate rooms, which meant that they couldn’t share the scissors or the tape and they had to keep running to the door of the room where the other person was yelling things like, “Aren’t you done with that tape yet?” and other things not quite so nice.

Obie’s dad, Obadiah, was in the living room pretending that there wasn’t going to be a Christmas the next day. He found a bowl game on the TV that he had never heard of – the US Air Bankruptcy Bowl. He didn’t know either of the two teams playing but even so he developed a rooting interest for North Dakota A&M and was soon cheering as passionately as if he were the school’s best alum.

It’s not an understatement to say that Obie’s dad is a bit of a fanatic about football. Whenever his team scored he would jump up and down and shout and clap. If there was a penalty for excessive celebration by a fan, Obadiah would get it. Now normally, that kind of tendency would just be endearing, but it was a problem this year because Obie’s mom, Missy Amato, had put the Christmas tree lights on a Clapper, one of those devices that cuts on and off by clapping your hands. Unfortunately it was on the same outlet with the TV so that every time Obadiah’s team would score, his celebration would knock off the Christmas tree lights and the TV. He would invariably miss the extra point and an argument would ensue with Missy and it was a very ugly scene.

Obie was nine years old and this was what Christmas always turned into: a beautiful service at church and then a scene of absolute bedlam back at the house. By the time everyone went to bed on Christmas Eve they were ready to sneak out to the fireplace and put coals in the stockings of everyone else in the family.

Obie reached the breaking point around 10:30. He was finishing up his last package when Meredith showed up at the door of the kitchen where he was working and said, “Get ready. He’s about to blow.”

“What do you mean?” Obie asked.

“North Dakota A&M is driving and they’re on the 2-yard-line. And Mom is fixing the light next to the star on the top of the tree.”

“Oh, no.” Just as he said it he heard his father clap his hands together and yell: “All right!! (pause) Missy! Haven’t we gotten the TV off the Clapper yet?!”

Then his mom said, “Obadiah Amato, I just about had that light positioned in the right place. Will you clap your hands and cut it back on?”

“I’m not clapping. Why don’t you?”

“Because I’ve got a string of lights in my hands and I’m standing on a rickety stool which you ought to be holding. You clap!”

“No, you!”

Obie wondered sometimes if his parents weren’t children themselves. He pulled on his sweatshirt and a baseball cap and walked outside. It was bound to be quieter out there.

It was. A light snow had begun to fall but there was still enough light from the bright three-quarter moon behind the clouds to let him see his way. Obie and his folks lived a ways out of town and most of their neighbors were farmers. Obie loved to play in the fields and create imaginary countries and forts. It was a wonderful refuge when things got rough at home, when no one understood him, when he was feeling out of sorts. In other words, at times like this. He headed off into the fields of Johnson Furloines farm.

His border collie, Juniper, soon caught up with him and the two of them were running through the snow-dusted fields. Obie knew just where he wanted to go. Up at the top of the next hill was a small forest and in that forest was a small cluster of rocks where he liked to sit and dream of what the world could be like. He needed that rock tonight. It wasn’t just that there was chaos in his house. The conflict was becoming constant and he worried about his family.

As he started up the hill he passed some holly bushes and a few straggly oak trees. The snow started to crunch under his feet as he stepped on frozen leaves. A few times he fell when he stepped through the frost to the mud beneath, but he didn’t care about muddy jeans. He was on an adventure.

Soon the crunching stopped as he entered a cluster of cedar trees. The snow hadn’t yet made it down to the ground from the branches above here. It was darker and quieter. He stopped and listened. The wind blew the tall trees so that they swayed and creaked softly, like some great ship out on the bay or a rocking cradle on an old wooden floor. He took a step and a large animal bolted out of the dark and away into the open field. It stopped briefly and looked back at him before leaping over the furrows. He had startled a deer.

He looked up ahead and saw his rock on the ridge of the hill. It was clearly visible in the dark and Obie though for a moment that it must have a spotlight on it because it seemed unnaturally bright. But he looked a little closer and realized that light came from overhead. The snow must have stopped because now there was moonlight streaming down through a small hole in the forest canopy.

The light made the small stand of trees seem magical. Everything looked different in the night and Obie was sure for a minute that he was in an enchanted forest. He expected elves and wood fairies to peek around the trunks of trees. But there was only the wind and the light and his rock, which also looked somehow different. As Obie walked closer he began to see in its shape and its shadows a familiar figure. It was the shape of Baby Jesus in the manger from the church program a few hours earlier. Obie was sure that’s what it was.

His mind began to perceive that something magical was going on. Somehow he had been transported back in time and he was seeing the manger from all those centuries ago. There was the Baby Jesus waiting for him at his favorite spot in the woods, the place where he most liked to be. So because it was dark and he was alone and because it was Christmas Eve and the forest was magic, Obie knelt down in front of the rock and said a prayer.

“Baby Jesus, I know you are a special child. I know you were loved by your parents and by the shepherds and the wise men that came to see you. I know you grew up and loved all the people you met and showed them how to live. I know you gave your life so that we could see how much you loved us. But sometimes, Baby Jesus, I have a hard time seeing that in my house. It’s hard being a kid. It’s hard when people don’t love each other. Could you show me that you’re still here? That you still care? That the world is still a magical place?”

Obie knelt there for a good few minutes, waiting. He stared at the rock in the bright white light of the moon. He felt the knees of his jeans getting soggy. He knew that his hands were raw and red and he was wishing he had some gloves. He was having a hard time feeling his toes.
Then he felt a warm blast of air on the back of his head. Someone was breathing on him. And he heard a gentle voice that was almost a whisper saying, “He’s still here and he still loves the whole world and you.”

Obie was frozen in place. He hadn’t heard anyone walking up behind him. Juniper, his dog, was standing over by the rock and hadn’t made any noise since they got there. But he could still feel the warm breath on the back of his neck. He decided to take a look. He turned around slowly and there in front of him was a cow. He was staring face to face with a cow. And behind her he could see a whole group of cows that had made their way across the field and into the forest.

Obie began to wonder if he had really heard the voice in his ear – the voice that said, “He’s still here and he still loves the whole world and you.” But then he remembered the legend that says that all the animals can talk at midnight on Christmas Eve so that they can tell the story what happened and what they saw in the manger in Bethlehem so long ago. He looked at the cow and said, “Did you…did you say that?”

The cow didn’t say anything but Obie thought for sure that the cow nodded her head “yes.” He looked over at the other cows and they were nodding as well.

There was no doubt. The forest was enchanted, and so was the world. Obie jumped up and said, “Thank you, Baby Jesus!” as loud as he could. He had to tell someone. Anyone. He ran back down the hill. Suddenly he didn’t care about the cold or the mud or the snow or anything. Behind him he could hear the cows mooing but after awhile he was almost certain he heard them singing a Christmas carol – “The Friendly Beasts” I think it was.

Obie was running so fast he outran Juniper back to the house. He threw open the door and ran inside. His dad and sister had gone to bed already. The only one up was his mom who was standing in front of the ceramic nativity set that they kept on the fireplace mantel. She looked up when she saw him come in and Obie thought it was strange because she didn’t get mad at him for going out without telling anybody and she didn’t get mad because he was only wearing an old sweatshirt and baseball cap and heavy, soggy jeans.

Then he noticed that she was holding the cow from the nativity scene and smiling. Obie said to his mom, “You heard it too, didn’t you?” She nodded her head and hugged. Then they both clapped their hands, the lights went off, and they went to bed to get ready for the coming day.

What’s the best thing Christmas can do? The best things Christmas can do is to remind us that Jesus is still here, that God has not abandoned us to the mess we make of our lives, and that love is still the most powerful force in the universe. The most powerful force in the universe and we see it revealed in a newborn baby. Thanks be to God.