One of my all time favorite Christmas movies is “It’s A Wonderful Life.” Dayna and I watch it every December. One of my favorite quotes from the movie is when Clarence says “one man’s life touches so many others, when he’s not there it leaves an awfully big hole.”

With the beginning of a new year, this seemed like the perfect time to share the following . . . in fact it is just for you . . . .

WITHOUT YOU

Have you ever been in one of those melancholy moods where you found yourself feeling insignificant? Maybe you’ve even wondered what life might have been like had you never been born. You’ve asked yourself if there would be, as Clarence said in It’s a Wonderful Life, an awfully big hole where you were meant to be.

The answer is yes, there would be an awfully big hole. We don’t always realize that, though. Too often we think if we didn’t make some amazing medical discovery, or were instrumental in achieving world peace, or some other incredible feat, then we had no worth. But the proof of our importance to this world is most often found in small ways.

In the movie Saving Private Ryan, Private Ryan spent his life trying to prove to himself that he was worthy of the ultimate sacrifice that was paid by the soldiers who lost their lives trying to save his. He carried tremendous guilt and never quite felt worthy of the trade. But by the end of the movie, his wife assures him that the sacrifice of those men wasn’t in vain, because Private Ryan was a good man. He was important in the lives of his family.

No, we may not change the world by discovering the cure for cancer, but those cards, phone calls, and visits that we gave to a friend who was diagnosed with cancer may have been the hope he or she needed to hang on, to keep fighting and ultimately win the battle. Maybe we never held a political office that enabled us to create policies that would help save the world, but those toys we gave away to a needy child that one Christmas may have meant the whole world to that boy or girl.

We don’t always see the importance of the small acts of kindnesses that we do. We brush off these little niceties, almost embarrassed at their apparent insignificance, telling ourselves that anybody could have done what we did. But the simple truth is nobody else was doing it, at least not at that time. We saw the need of one single person in one single moment and we acted.

If a survey was ever taken of people whose lives had been miraculously changed, we might be surprised at how many of them would say that the turning point came as a result of one small act of kindness, either given by someone they knew or a total stranger.

Do you remember how the “buddy system” worked when you were younger? If a group of you were going swimming, hiking, mountain biking, or doing some other outdoor sport, the leader always made sure that everyone had a buddy with them at all times. You were assigned someone to watch out for you in case anything went wrong, and you watched out for them. That’s because no one person could keep their eye on the entire group at every moment.

The same is true in life. None of us can be there for everyone. It’s a physical, financial, and emotional impossibility. But I’m sure those we have helped, either financially or emotionally, those we gave a kind word to, or a monetary gift, or showed any kindness in any way, are forever grateful that we happened to come along at the precise moment of their need. And we’ll be forever grateful for those who happened along in our times of need.

So, yes, there would be an awfully big hole. From the very first day of your life, you’ve been affecting people. Your parents, your extended family, your friends, even people you didn’t know that wee, or at all for that matter. Your birth may have meant everything to your parents. That first home run you hit in Little League may have been the proudest moment in your father’s life. When you were in the eighth grade you may have thought you were just warming a chair, but that smile you gave to the boy sitting behind you in class may have been the only one he got all semester. The time you defended a friend who was being picked on in school was no small thing. It took courage to stand up for someone whom everyone else was making fun of. Think it went unnoticed? That girl is forty-eight now, and to this day she can still recite your words verbatim. You’ve been making an impact on people your entire life, you just don’t know it.

We may not know until we get to heaven just how many lives we’ve positively affected simply by our being here. And since we’re all still around, that can only mean there are plenty more lives waiting to be affected by our presence, too.

An insignificant life? Hardly.

(Martha Bolton)

And last of all my favorite Christmas story of all . . .

THE CHRISTMAS PAGEANT My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years bud hadn’t been blessed with a baby.

I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that if He would give us a child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide.

God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son. The next year God blessed us with another son. The following year, He blessed us with yet another son. The year after that we were blessed with a daughter.

My husband thought we’d been blessed right into poverty. We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old.

I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it. As a minister once told me, “If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella.” I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs.

I was off to a good start. God had entrusted me with four children, and I didn’t want to disappoint Him.

I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks.

I tried to be understanding when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours to catch all twenty-three frogs.

When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess. . .

In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, I still thank god daily for my children,

While I couldn’t keep my promise to be a perfect mother—I didn’t even come close. I did keep my promise to raise them in the Word of God.

I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to “wash up” Jesus, too.

Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his “last wife.”

My proudest moment came during the children’s Christmas pageant. My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds and my youngest son was a wise man. This was their moment to shine.

My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, “We found the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes.” But he was nervous and said, “The baby was wrapped in wrinkled clothes.”

My four-year-old “Mary” said, “That’s not ‘wrinkled clothes,’ silly. That’s dirty, rotten clothes.”

A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was topped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost her left wing.

I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced down the aisle crying, “Mamamama.”

Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived.

My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger, and announced, “we are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur.”

The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation.

“I’ve never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one,” laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes.

“For the rest of my life, I’ll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common sense and fur.”

“My children are my pride and my joy, and my greatest blessing,” I said as I dug through my purse for an aspirin.