"But Mama, Who Will Light the Christmas Candle?"

The year was 1973. I was young and very much in the love with the man who would become my husband. It was our first Christmas together and it was at that first celebration that I was introduced to the lighting of the Christmas candle. I didn't know then that this lighting of the Christmas candle would become one of my most cherished Christmas traditions.

Samuel Hardiman Jones Sr. held in his gnarled hands an old brass candle holder. The skin on his hands was as transparent as his heart and the tears slid unbidden down his wrinkled cheeks. The brass candle holder had once belonged to his mother. As he lit the candle he was reminded of the
Christmases of his childhood when his mother's young hand held the light on those dark December nights of long ago. His mother was now a sweet memory that was awaken every Christmas when he would hold in his hand the same candle holder that she had held in her hand and he would weep.

I learned that year that tears were part of the Christmas celebration. Samuel Hardiman Jones Sr. with a voice that chocked with emotion explained the significance of the brass candle holder. Then he lit the candle and as he did he spoke about the tender mercy of God. "This light is to remind us that we have been visited by the sunrise from on high. Jesus has come to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace."

When Great Granddaddy died I was given the antique brass candle holder. Every year I would ask Papa, Great Granddaddy's son, to light the Christmas candle. He would take the candle holder into his hands that had become twisted by the years and he would pause as the tears gathered in his eyes. With a voice husky with emotion he would light the candle and remind us that Christmas is about when the light of the world penetrated our darkness.

The year Papa died was difficult. His bride of sixty four years had died just six days before him. As Christmas was approaching my daughter broke down and wept. Beside the olive wood nativity I had placed the candle holder. "But Mama, who will light the Christmas candle?" I knew the pain in her heart because it was in mine as well. "Your Daddy will light the candle and we will all weep. We will remember Papa and Grandma Belle and all the ones we love who are no longer with us and we will weep. However, we will not grieve like those who have no hope. We will light the candle and we will remember why Jesus came."