Midnight. Burning the advent wreath down with the Christ Candle lit in the center. Listening to boys air choirs sing the psalms as we wrap presents and get the children ready for bed. They’re too excited to sleep, though that’s coming fast.
It’s the best part of Christmas for me. Looking at the Nativity set, and contemplating the Holy Family. How did sleep come to them that night? What did they make of the great Theophany, when Heaven opened onto earth and the angels sang? The great comfort, the fulfillment of the promise, but how? The Messiah born in a barn?
As I contemplate the Nativity, I contemplate the figures not there; those who refused a very pregnant Mary about to give birth. Why? What hardness of heart existed in that time, in that place, that a woman about to deliver was not welcomed in from the cold to a safe place, if only for the night? Where was compassion, empathy?
It wasn’t that there was no room in the inn. There was no room in people’s hearts. So the couple were shown the barn, and amidst the filth and odor, the indignity of all indignities, God came into the world as an untouchable. And as I contemplate the hardness of hearts then and now, I also see how far we have come.
I think of my son, and how in my own childhood, autistic children like him were sent away to institutions. Untouchables.
I think of the boys in his Boy Scout Troop who embrace him as is, and others like him. They’re growing up with special needs children in their classes, on their sports teams, in their neighborhoods, in their families. This has been made possible because the community of parents with autistic children have been militant. Because those who came before Joseph have demanded innovations in therapies, and plenty of services, the fields of speech therapy, occupational therapy, and special education have grown by leaps and bounds.
So has Joseph.
It’s not a miracle. We as a society just decided to do it.
We say “yes”, and God provides.
Just like a young couple so very long ago. They said “yes”, and were gifted with gold, frankincense, and myrrh for their long journey to Egypt.
My son has taught me more than I ever imagined about Divine Providence. All that God requires is a “yes.”
He makes the rest happen.
Coming Home 
It’s a difficult time to be autistic, have Down Syndrome or other “disabilities”.
Our society seeks perfection.
But no one is perfect except God.
I am happy to know that I have been given the opportunity to interact and develop a personal relationship with the many students who come into my workplace and who have disabilities.
What joy they bring into my life. I am so privileged because they give me back much more than I can ever hope to give them.
When I attended school, there were no children who were blind, or autistic or had cerebral palsy.
Joseph and children like him are a reminder of our human condition and that we depend upon God for everything.
Joseph and the many other children who are challenged in some way are the lucky ones – they have parents who have loved beyond measure, have been open to the possibilities and have been advocates for the culture of life!
Have a blessed Christmas!
Thanks MC. A Blessed and Peace-filled Christmas to you and your family.