Several families were visiting at my house for a Christmastime Bible Study. The study was not in English. I took my usual role as child wrangler. The most respected gift, I think, is to give one’s self.

The kids—mostly talkative five-year-olds—ran to the Christmas tree. They were closely inspecting its decorations. “Kan zhi-ge! ”  “Look at these!”

One girl exclaimed, “Uncle Greg, we make these lights! We make these lights!”
 
I asked, “Do you have a Christmas tree at home?”

 She calmed down. “Little tree,” she murmured. “we do not make lights for it. Not our lights.”
 
Crouching down, I pressed, “How did you make these lights on this tree in my house?”
 
She looked at me. She exhaled. She spoke slowly so I could understand. I don't recall the exact words. The explanation went something like this:
 
We make these lights where we live in Taiwan.
We make little lights at my house.
Not here. At my house in Taiwan.
Every day, we make little lights.
We do not keep little lights. We sell them.
 
Then I understood. In Taiwan, her family assembled Christmas light strings in their apartment.

These five-year-olds were concerned about how my lights were spaced. Were bulbs solid color or blotchy? Could light strings join end-to-end? Which is better, blink or not blink? Which is better, blue or white?

The young Quality Assurance team finally approved my tree's workmanship and presentation. 
 
Since then, when I visit local stores—even if not intending to buy—I scrutinize Christmas decorations for sale. From where did they come? Taiwan, People’s Republic of China, Viet Nam, India, Mexico, the Czech Republic…? I wonder, did they come from children's hands or from automation?  What does it profit a kitchen-based factory when I buy fifty of their lights for two dollars?  When I ask adult visitors about Halloween items, they thoroughly dislike the uglies.  But they are intrigued by Christmas stuff. They ask, why do people with so many trees buy a plastic tree? Why buy so much sparkly stuff? What if you do not have snow? What’s with the old man in red clothes? Is he a Buddha? Is the baby his grandson? Do the animals eat the baby? Do Americans really eat bread with every meal?

What do the workers infer about the buyers of their product, whether cute lights or big books?  What things might I buy that would stir the producer’s interest in God’s kingdom?  The answer is above.

The inspectors swarmed off to use the carpeted stairs as a toboggan run. I grabbed big plush animals to stand guard with me at the bottom of the stairs.

When the kids tired, we played with my “Made in China” nativity set. We talked about the star, the people, and the animals. We learned about the best gift: the child, the gift that is too wonderful for words.

It's rare that I get quite so emotional as I did with the attached video. This may have to do with visiting this year so many American civil war battlefields near my northern Virginia location.

The song, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" uses an 1863 poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Longfellow was a Harvard professor who had toured Europe apparently to learn to translate eight languages. He left academe, becoming a versatile, lyrics-slinging poet/rockstar.

Here was a man who had lost first wife Mary to miscarriage and second wife Frances to a fire that scarred his own face and body.  Here was a dedicated abolitionist and pacifist whose son joined the Union Army. Said son took a bullet to the spine, and now in December 1863 was back home in Massachusetts being nursed to health by his father.  Here was a man who on December 25, 1863 wrote the following verses mixing pain and resolve.

1.  I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
and wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

2.  And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

3.  Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

[Verses 4 & 5 are omitted from most recent presentations.]

4. Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

5.  It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

6.  And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

7.  Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.

Where I stood was mud the day before. Now that farm road was frozen hard as iron. I pondered:
 
“The TV bosses let a kid quote the Bible for a minute. Maybe there's hope for this world!”

This nostalgic moment is easy for me to pinpoint. I was waiting for the school bus at 7:45 a.m., Friday, December 10, 1965. Many others also were reflecting on the previous evening’s premiere of A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Over the background brain jazz of “Christmastime is Here” and “Linus and Lucy”,  I reconsidered the words of Linus and Luke: “And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the fields…”. 

Commercials urging “Winston tastes good like a cigarette should” and “See the USA in your Chevrolet” had given way to "Glory to God in the highest!" Scary scenes from Selma and Viet Nam were for a while displaced by "Peace on earth, good will to men.” And by a blue blanket.

Most of the Peanuts kids—kids like me—knew well the Christmas biz. As Lucy confided, “We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket! It's run by a big eastern syndicate you know!” She urged, “Get the biggest aluminum tree you can find, Charlie Brown, maybe painted pink!”

For me, the compelling character in Peanuts was not Charlie Brown, though I felt his pain. Snoopy was more flamboyant than anyone I knew.  I was a Linus fan. Later I learned that Linus was not always the brave evangelist who could calmly summon, “Lights, please.”  Linus had been forgetful, anxious, and odd. For example, rewind to December 21, 1958.

A running gag especially in December was that Linus had stage fright. Lucy continued to encourage Linus in her persuasive way.

I appreciate Linus' compassion. The other kids relentlessly dismiss and ridicule Charlie Brown. Linus is to Charlie a merciful, supportive, frank, and insightful friend.

Linus is unembarrassed about his security blanket.  In A Charley Brown Christmas, this versatile blanket serves as tow rope, slingshot, head covering, hiding place, and potentially a sport coat. Concerning Linus' attachment to his blanket, in 2015 Jason Soroski published a profound observation now echoed at over fifty websites:

There is a second blanket drop! Linus selflessly gives his prized blanket to restore the little limp Christmas tree. What do you think becomes of the blanket?

Walk with me in the starry night with Charlie Brown, Linus, Lucy, and all others who would go. We will purpose our security for kindness.  We will trade cold tinsel for warm treasure. 

Footnote 1:  Linus steps up.

   1952 ... 1953 ... 1954 ... 1955 ... 1956 ... 1957 ... 1958
    ... 1959 ... 1960 ... 1961 ... 1962 ... 1963 ... 1964 ... 1965
       ... “Every now and then I say the right thing”

Footnote 2:  Linus steps back.
   Other Peanuts characters took much of Linus' role as sage and poet, even slinging a T.S. Eliot reference in one of the following Christmas strips.

  "Begat" ... "House of Bread" ... "Abiding" ...  "Attention" ... "I hate shopping" ...
     "Warned in a Dream" ... "Calling Bird" ...
         "Hark, Harold Angel" ... "Hockey Stick!" ...
            "Joe Handel" ... "Gabriel" ...
               "Sheep" ... "Moo! Whatever!"

Footnote 3: More Peanuts.

   Peanuts for Christ ...
       Peanuts Wiki on A Charlie Brown Christmas ...
            Charles Schulz' Spiritual Walk