“Firm Foundations,” New Era, Dec. 2020, 46–47.
Firm Foundations
A Singing Testimony
Illustrations by Alyssa Gonzalez
Sister Yates and I pedaled down the country road on our bikes. It was December in Taiwan, but most people there didn’t celebrate Jesus Christ’s birth, meaning there were no Christmas trees or special decorations. Even though we loved where we were, we wished for some Christmas cheer.
As we rode our bikes, we saw an old man sitting on his porch. Sister Yates said, “Let’s go talk to that man!”
“We won’t be able to,” I told her. “The older people here speak Taiwanese, and we speak Mandarin Chinese.”
“I still want to try,” Sister Yates said.
Sure enough, we walked over and introduced ourselves, but he didn’t understand.
We were about to walk away when I noticed a book of Christmas songs on his lap. The page was open to the song “Silent Night.”
“Look—‘Silent Night,’” I said to Sister Yates. “Why don’t we sing it with him?”
We started to sing. He joined in, his smile growing wider. Soon the Spirit filled our hearts.
We finished singing and smiled at the old man as we wiped away tears. We had been missing the sights and sounds of Christmas back home, but that rare moment with the old man somehow seemed special. I had been skeptical about talking to him, but I had forgotten that speaking is only one way to share your testimony.
Amanda W., Nevada, USA
Personal Blizzards
The storm came up quickly. It was blinding white. I was driving from one state to another, and I could hardly see. My white-knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel as I searched for any sort of landmark. I felt relieved when I made out two taillights from what must have been a semi-truck. Their red beam gave me something to follow.
I inched along behind the truck for almost an hour. I thought the cars passing me must be crazy for going so fast in this weather. I was certain that I would see the wreckage of one of them farther up the road.
Turns out the people in those cars had a far better perspective than I did. As I started to climb a mountain pass, my little car couldn’t keep up with the taillights. When the truck pulled ahead of me, I realized the “blizzard” was actually powder coming off its very snowy top. It was only snowing lightly, and I could actually see the road quite clearly.
Had I seen the whole picture from the beginning, I would have realized that the truck in front of me that I’d thought was a beacon was, in fact, the reason for the storm. Sometimes we get so caught up in our own personal blizzards that we miss the big picture. The Lord knows our big picture, even when we do not. If we trust in Him, we can avoid the personal blizzards that can be so harmful to us, and we can make it through the storm safely.
Kari B., Virginia, USA
Christmas Art Show
It was Christmas break and I was just relaxing by our fireplace, ready to take a nap. I closed my eyes and seconds later, a bright cheery voice yelled right in my ear, “Look what I made!”
I opened my eyes, and in my face was my little sister and her creation—and it sure was impressive. It was a bright rainbow lump of clay, but not really rainbow anymore, since the colors were all blended together.
“It’s a house for Jesus!” she announced. Sure enough, she took the top of the mound off and inside lay a few clay figures that formed what could be a Nativity scene.
She said, “I made it all myself!”
The sculpture made about as much sense as any clay figure made by a five-year-old, so I gave up trying to understand it. I said to her, “Yep, you sure did.”
We moved on to the next items in the art show, and she had me guess what each statue was—which was honestly very difficult, since they were all as abstract as the first one.
But I looked back at the clay Nativity and had the overwhelming feeling that Jesus would love it—that if presented with it, He would shower her with praises and put it in a place of honor.
As I sat with her and looked at the rest of her art pieces, I realized that the love we show others, and the time we sacrifice to show love for others, is the true meaning of Christmas.
Brennan T., Utah, USA