“Chaos, Fast Food, and Christmas,” New Era, Dec. 2019, 16–17.
Chaos, Fast Food, and Christmas
I’ll never forget the Christmas Eve when I ate fast food for dinner.
Illustrations by Valerio Fabbretti
I was serving as a missionary, and a family in our ward unexpectedly invited my companion and me over for dinner.
When Christmas Eve finally came, we walked a few miles to their home, stomped off our snow-powdered boots, and eagerly rapped on the front door. Silence. After knocking again and ringing the doorbell, an adult daughter finally came to the door.
“Can you wait out here for a second?” she said. “We forgot you guys were coming.”
The door shut, and we looked at each other, confused, as we shivered on the porch.
When the door swung open again, we were guided to a small, well-loved couch in the corner of the living room. All 15 family members (seven of them small children) were also packed into the room. The older children raised their eyebrows in surprise at our appearance. The younger children wildly wrestled on the carpet. Apparently, the father, who was the only active Church member, had not told his family members that we were coming.
The same daughter who opened the front door announced that they hadn’t had time to prepare dinner, so she was going to see what restaurants were open for pickup. The father did his best to hush the children and direct their attention toward us, but they were pretty rowdy.
At first, my companion could barely utter a few words before a child would squeal or the family dog would jump on our laps. In all the chaos, I prayed for a way to help this family feel the peace of the Savior.
“Let’s imagine something together,” I said suddenly. “Can everyone close their eyes?”
I didn’t quite know where I was going with this, but I had a copy of an article by Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles that my mom had sent me. The question took the children off guard and they squeezed their eyes shut.
I unfolded the talk and began to read.
“Think about that baby [Jesus] in the manger. … Do not be too concerned or overwhelmed with what is coming in His life or in yours. … Just think about that little baby. Take a quiet, peaceful moment to ponder the beginning of His life ... when all of heaven rejoiced with the message ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men’ (Luke 2:14).”
At this point the children were all quiet and still; even the teenagers put their phones down. I read on.
“Just sit with the Lord and let Him warm you like a fire in winter. You don’t have to be perfect or the greatest person who ever graced the earth or the best of anything to be with Him.”1
I paused for a few moments to allow the Spirit to linger before telling the family to open their eyes. My companion and I bore our testimonies of the miracle of Christ’s birth and how we can always experience the peaceful feelings of Christmas as we cherish His life.
The atmosphere in the small living room was warm and light. I felt as though we had taken our own journey to Bethlehem to gather around the Christ child. One of the little girls sighed and said, “I love Jesus. Thank you for coming, Sisters.” Many of the other children nodded.
A few minutes later, the oldest daughter hobbled in the door, arms loaded with bags of fast food. We soon found ourselves munching on tacos, laughing, and sharing our favorite holiday memories.
Christmas has a way of bringing all kinds of people together. And just as Elder Christofferson taught, we don’t have to have the perfect family or the perfect holiday traditions to feel the Savior’s love; we just need to remember Him. On that Christmas Eve, I learned that sometimes a simple, heartfelt moment with Savior is all it takes to create a “silent night.”
The author lives in Utah, USA.