Christmas in Springtime
One year, our family discovered that Christmas and Easter are best understood together.
Illustrations by Simona Love
Our family’s best Christmas ever didn’t happen on Christmas Day. It happened on Easter.
One Christmas had been overshadowed by worry for our son Tanner, who was struggling in the hospital with a life-threatening illness. He was in a medically-induced coma for 10 weeks. He literally slept through Christmas.
Gloriously, Tanner slowly regained his strength and was able to come home in the spring. As Easter approached, we talked about Tanner’s missed Christmas. His sisters and brother decided that he deserved a make-up. We thought about how fun it would be to turn Easter into a double holiday.
To get ready for our springtime Christmas celebration, we pulled out a box of Christmas lights, fashioned a little Christmas tree, and bought and wrapped small Christmas presents for each other.
The night before Easter, our “Christmas Eve,” we dressed up in old bathrobes and makeshift costumes for a family Nativity pageant. We read from the scriptures about the angel appearing to Mary and Joseph, their journey to Bethlehem, and their search for a place to stay but finding no room at the inn.
We also read about the shepherds tending their flocks at night, the angel of the Lord appearing to them, and a choir of the heavenly host singing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men” (Luke 2:14). In our pageant, shepherds visited the stable where our children were dressed as farm animals (that year, our Nativity stable also included a giraffe!).
Our family Christmas pageant didn’t end there. Because it was Easter, we continued reading about how baby Jesus grew in stature, visited and taught scholars in the temple, performed miracles, ministered to His people, and met with His Apostles in an upper room in Jerusalem, where He introduced the sacrament.
We reverently read the account of Jesus entering the Garden of Gethsemane to begin His mighty atoning work—to suffer, bleed, and die for us. Then we read how He was risen on the third day. He overcame death—His own death and ours. We were reminded that because of Him, everything is possible.
On Easter morning, we got up extra early. We delighted in the glow of bright, colorful Christmas lights against the pre-dawn darkness. We excitedly opened our gifts and ate our customary Christmas breakfast of pull-apart bread. As the rising sun brightened the world outside, we hunted for Easter eggs and celebrated the wonder of the Resurrection. At church, we partook of the sacrament, which brought the reality of the Savior’s Atonement forward into the here and now.
For each of us, that “Christmas-y Easter” caused us to see more clearly that Christmas and Easter are best understood together. Christmas because it is filled with promise, and Easter because it is bursting with promises kept.
We look back happily on this experience because we would only have Tanner with us for one more Christmas before his mortal mission closed. Today, we look ahead with confidence that our separation from Tanner is just for a while because we rejoice at Christmas that “a child is born” (Isaiah 9:6), and we remember at Easter—and will remember always—that “He is risen” (see Matthew 28:6).