Christmas 1777

I received a letter from a little 7 year old girl in mid-December 1777. She lived in the English colonial territories of North America. Her father was a member of George Washington's Continental Army based for the winter in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. He had been gone for over a year. Her only communication had been from the one letter a month that was delivered by horseback to their home in Virginia. She had found a letter that was addressed only to her mother. Through that letter, which had not been intended for her eyes, she knew that her father was scared but committed to winning freedom for his family and for generations to come. She knew much more fierce fighting laid ahead. She knew that her father was facing a cold, bitter winter with little food, only a tent for shelter, a summer jacket, and boots that had holes worn through the soles. Her Christmas wish was simply that I stop in and visit him on Christmas Eve. Not that I bring him anything that he might need but that I simply look him in the eyes and tell him that his little girl had sent me to tell him Merry Christmas and that she loved him.

So that Christmas Eve, I directed the sleigh to Valley Forge. I brought a security detail of elves with me and we sat down in a meadow just over the hill from Washington's camp. After a few moments of scouting, my security detail quickly identified Washington's perimeter patrol patterns. In the flash of an eye, they had captured a wild-eyed private. I recognized him immediately from my earlier trips to his home when he was but a child and knew that he was only 16. I told him it would be okay but not to report this to anyone as he would risk humiliation when no one believed him. I could see in his eyes that he was convinced we were part of the English army, it had been such a long time since he believed. I instructed the elves to take him back to the sleigh, warm him in a blanket, and feed him warm soup and hot coffee. They told me later that once he saw the reindeer, he was finally convinced.

Meanwhile, I slipped silently into camp. It seemed as every crunching step in the snow reverberated through the camp. I tried to move as quickly and quietly as possible. As I approached the large, make-shift barracks in the middle of the camp, I saw the guards step away. I wondered if they had word of the abducted perimeter guard but I took the opportunity to duck inside. There was a man... a man who I knew to be General George Washington... kneeling, with an open Bible in hand, at the end of the barracks. He was facing the far wall. I stood just inside the doorway... trying not to make a sound. I stood there for several minutes... entranced by his prayer. He prayed for his family, the men under his command, their families, his superiors, his nation, his enemy, and their families. He prayed for peace. He prayed for freedom of all men & women. He thanked God for the responsibility that he had been granted and asked for the wisdom & courage that would be required in the days ahead. My trance was broken by the feel of a tear running down my cheek. I felt so small, so insignificant, and so humble in the presence of such a noble man who understood his destiny and his place in history.

I realized I only had a few more moments before I would be caught and ducked quickly out of the barracks. I rushed down the rows of the tents. On the far side of camp, I found the tent of the little girl's father. I could see a candle light flickering inside. I could see his silhouette... he was writing, probably a letter to his family. I opened the door. He smiled. Then he laughed. I saw a twinkle in his eyes that I usually only see in the eyes of children. "Santa!" he exclaimed. "My daughter insisted in her letters that you would be here. And somehow, despite everything I thought I knew, I believed her. And now you are here. God bless you!" And he spontaneously hugged me. For the second time in that hour, I was again humbled.

I gave him the message from his daughter. We talked for several minutes. He explained that he missed his family terribly but he believed that his family, his neighbors, and the people of the 13 colonies deserved freedom... freedom to worship as they choose, freedom to speak their minds, freedom to pursue happiness, and more. He believed his sacrifice, and the sacrifice of his family, was a small price to pay for liberty. It was with great pleasure that I left him with my own boots and my own coat.

That Christmas Eve my own faith in the capacity of the human spirit was renewed. Many of us around the world have men like George Washington and that little girl's father to thank for our freedom. What they fought for and what they accomplished was a beacon to the rest of us. The flame of liberty that they lit in America has spread around the world. This 4th of July, I pray to God and thank Him for the United States, thank him for the men & women that gave their service for freedom, and ask for the freedom of every nation.

Happy Birthday, America!