We had just begun the hectic pre-Christmas preparations. It’s an annual event; every year the UNOH team and a host of volunteers and supporters hold a big Christmas bash for people in our communities who don’t have anywhere to go over Christmas. As it can be a dark and lonely time for people without family (or with strained family relations), we hope to be able to splash a bit of hope and joy for those at the bottom of the rung. For families who struggle to provide gifts for their children, churches around Melbourne, notably Doncaster Church of Christ, donate huge quantities of Christmas presents for the children in our neighbourhoods. On the day before Christmas as we started wrapping the presents, listing the children we know in our neighbourhoods, I thought of a family we have begun to get to know over the past year, a delightful Muslim family from Darfur, Western Sudan.

Mehtab and his wife Aisha have 5 children under the age of 10. This beautiful family have stolen our hearts, often sharing their meagre resources to generously welcome us into their home. Our daughter Divya in particular is a favourite amongst the two younger children who both attend her childcare. The eldest of these children, Zahra, has an amazing story of survival, having being separated from her family in Darfur whilst fleeing from the militia. You would never guess that this sweet smile had seen such terrible things.  

After finding some presents that I thought might be appropriate for the children, Sharm and I quickly wrapped them and as I was heading over to pick up Divya from childcare, I thought I might drop them off to them on the way back. As it turned out, the whole family were home, and as Divya and I walked in with our hands laden with presents, I was once again welcomed into their humble home. The presents were wrapped in a shiny gold wrapping paper, and as I gave each of the children their gifts, they beamed back at me. But I noticed something strange, the children sat there with big grins on their faces but didn’t open the presents. ‘Oh’, I said to Mehtab, ‘I forgot, you don’t have this tradition.’ ‘No, we don’t,’ Mehtab said with a polite smile. I then showed the children what to do with these big boxes in shiny paper and began to help them tear them open. They must have thought it was an unusual custom…and when I viewed it from the outside-in, well, it is! The children seemed happy with their new toys and all pledged to share with each other. There was no sense of any toy being ‘mine’, but rather ‘ours’.

Being there for the first time anyone in this family had ever received a gift of any description was a rare treat, a gift in itself. Ever since I’ve met this family I have always felt as though I wanted to give them something, but somehow they always seem to beat me to it! Once again I felt as though they had beaten me to it, even when I came bearing gifts.

Viewing the strange custom of my Christmas tradition from the outside brought a fresh perspective to Christmas for me. I will never forget the sweet smile of Zahra as she sat holding her gold wrapped box. These children had never received a gift before, even a birthday gift, as it is not traditionally celebrated in their culture. This strange tradition of handing each other gifts hidden in wrapping paper is one of the many new customs this family will need to learn. But it got me thinking about what Christmas is beyond the gifts, the wrapping paper, the Christmas trees and all the other things that just seem to distract from this beautiful season. These things have become the wrapping paper concealing the gift that is hidden within Christmas. And so often I feel as though I am like one of these children, holding the wrapped present, grinning, but not opening it. There is a treasure beyond words, not far below the surface of the Christmas dross, a treasure that brings hope and joy to people, grinning at wrapped boxes. Every year I hear the call from within beckoning me to listen to the story with fresh ears, the story of grace, hope and justice; yet every year the shiny wrapping paper becomes the distraction. It is a season of doing, and yet the call is to be and to listen. It is in being and listening that we are able to unwrap the shiny box to reveal the gift that brings grace, hope and justice to weary hearts and minds.

Peter Blair