“White Christmas,” title song for the movie by the same name in 1954, was originally sung by Bing Crosby on December 25, 1941, for the radio show called the Kraft Music Radio Show. Its composer, Irving Berlin, was a Russian-born immigrant who did not celebrate Christmas because he was of the Jewish faith. Christmas, 1941 was sad for many families because so many sweethearts, brothers, uncles, and husbands were lost at Pearl Harbor on December 7th. That sadness grew for those singing the song when they learned that Berlin originally wrote the song as a tribute to his three-week old son who died on Christmas day, 1928. By 1942 and America’s entry into WWII, this beloved song was the most requested song of our soldiers and sailors as they fought in the battles of North Africa and later in the European and Pacific conflicts.
Today is the second Sunday in Advent, and I find myself, once again, watching a big snow storm cover my front yard. Throughout the years as this song has played on my CD player, I have often cried for our soldiers and sailors, men and women, as they have sacrificed time away from their families at Christmas and many times, sacrificed their lives, so that we can be free from the tyrants and evil of the world. Those same tears haunt me today as I contemplate how much I have taken for granted at the expense of someone else’s life, someone else’s family, someone else’s sacrifices. Americans need to be more grateful for our freedoms rather than be so quick to jump on someone else’s protest band wagon. In my mind’s eye, in my trembling heart, and in my warm body, I see the expectant looks of all the children waiting for hugs from their moms and dads, I hear the cries of every soldier and sailor who won’t see the white Christmas of home, I feel the frost bite of every courageous soldier and sailor hoping that they will eventually walk again pain-free, and I pray that God, in His infinite wisdom and plans, will bring peace to our troubled and darkened world, and that war will be forever stopped among every nation on the earth.
As I look at the beautiful huge flakes falling from heaven this morning, I feel God’s presence in my home and know that from the pure white of the snow outside comes the pure white peace of His love inside me. From the sacrifices of our service men and women, I see the Arch Angel Michael and his angels as they continue to secure our freedoms and the freedoms of other countries around the world. I am dreaming of the white Christmases of the past, the present, and the future, knowing that God will not let me stumble or America to fall. His love, grace, and forgiveness are enough to fill my cup and those of every other believer with the peace of understanding and the joy of the birth of Jesus Christ, the King, our Emmanuel. With Him, all things are possible; to Him, I raise the words: “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know….”
Anna Hartt
