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A brother for Christmas

Sharon Kuepfer

I’ll never forget that Christmas. Our family of five young girls (sadly lacking a brother) was preparing for the holidays. The candles were out, the Christmas scene set up, the cookie baking done. Festivities filled the air as we ran hither and thither putting the place in shape.

Then Dad broke the news. “I’m bringing a lost sheep home with me today. His name is Mike. He’ll stay for the holidays.”

We groaned. “How could you, Dad?” Our females-only family didn’t need a man whom we hardly knew coming to our house. This invasion of privacy was too much, especially at the most exciting time of the year.

What could we say, though? Dad was concerned about Mike’s spiritual state. Could we be instrumental in leading him to the Lord? We all knew it wouldn’t have been right to say, “No,” but we weren’t happy. The house was ready for his coming, but our hearts weren’t prepared for what would happen.

He arrived – quiet and courteous. Scars on his face revealed part of his past – he called himself the man with nine lives. We settled him in, then shared our food and family fun. He was with us as we sang our songs and told the Christmas story.

It was the night before Christmas, when unexpectedly Mike asked Dad to explain the way of salvation. Dad told him to read the Gospel of John. The next morning, simply, he asked Christ to come into his life.

We were thrilled. Had this actually happened? This ended up being one of the most memorable Christmases ever. Through the years, Mike has been in and out of our home. He has his struggles like us all but wants God in his life.

It was typical of my father, that he saw what only a father could see – further into the future than we teens could. What he saw years down the road meant much more than keeping in step with our selfishness – because in Mike I got what I never thought I’d have – a brother for Christmas.

This year, five sons-in-law and 16 grandchildren later, my parents are hosting the yearly Christmas get-together. Excitement reigns once again as we finalize the festivities via phone from our homes across the continent. One week before the grand arrival on Christmas Day, Dad casually tells me, “Mom and I might be bringing a lost sheep home for Christmas this year.”

And I say, “Good.”

Sharon Kuepfer is a freelance writer from Kenora, Ont.

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Last modified December 6, 2000.

© 2000 Mennonite Brethren Herald.
Published by the Canadian Conference of MB Churches.
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