At Tiny Naylor’s on Christmas Morning

As with most people in America, my wife and I love to spend Christmas with our family, and we have always been fortunate enough to do that.  Well almost always. The first ten years of our marriage we lived in sunny California and our parents couldn’t wait to spend the Holidays with us, getting out of the Midwest’s cold and snow.  Later, we had a great time sharing our son with his grandparents every year. We always made a big deal out of every bit of Christmas with the family every year, except one.

For our fourth Christmas together, neither set of parents could get out to be with us.  So it was just the two of us that year.  We had moved to Pasadena, California on the first of December and we didn’t really know anyone there. Because we were at a loss to know what to do with ourselves, on Christmas Eve we went to a big mall.  We had no shopping to do, because we had mailed our presents to our family weeks before. Instead, we slowly wandered the mall, looking around and generally getting in the way of all the last minute shoppers.  Then, we went home and took the dog for a walk while looking at the Christmas lights in our neighborhood.  Our TV was on the fritz, so we listened to the radio.  The L.A. stations had radio drama specials on that night—three different productions of “A Christmas Carol.”  Tina went to bed after the second one, but I heard all three sitting in the dark looking at our Christmas tree. 

The next morning we got up early and opened our presents.  That was fun, but with only the two of us it didn’t take very long.  We decided to go out for breakfast.  There was a little café around the corner named Tiny Naylor’s.  It was an interesting place that morning.  The first thing we noticed was that we were the youngest people in the place, by about 30 years.  The next thing we noticed was that almost everyone was sitting alone.  There were a few other couples, but a lot of the tables had just one occupant.  We ordered and watched the people. The waitresses were extra cheery.  They seemed to understand that their customers were lonely folks.  Instead of feeling resentful that they had to work, they realized that the folks they were serving needed someone to be nice to them.  Everyone took his or her time eating breakfast.  I think most of them had no place else to go.  Tina and I felt very lucky, because even though it was just the two of us that morning, we had an invitation to dinner with one of the families in our new church, and my wife’s parents would be with us in a couple of days. 

I’ll never forget that morning because it was the first time I realized how lonely Christmas can be for people who are unattached.  Those folks were lonely … and quiet.  I have always wondered what was in their thoughts.  I’m sure some were mourning the passing of a loved one or a relationship that had ended.  Others were probably harboring anger and bitterness toward someone.  Still others may well have been glad to be alone so they didn’t have to put up with the people in their families that day.  I’m pretty sure that many of them just wanted the day to be over so they could get back to their regular lives.  Perhaps there were others who, like my wife and I, were just biding time until they could join a celebration with people they loved. 

I still love the presents (both giving and receiving) the music, the movies, the church presentations, the decorations, everything.  But the memory of that breakfast at Tiny Naylor’s keeps me sensitive to those who don’t enjoy the season the way I do.  It also helps keep the wonder of the real meaning of Christmas the main thing for me.  Whether or not we celebrate with family and friends, and whether or not we enjoy the traditional celebrations, it is important to remember that it is all about God’s Son being born to show His love for us and to redeem us from our sins.  That, my friends, is cause for celebration under any circumstances—big and brassy, or low key and quiet.   

Bill, the Innkeeper

Every year I hear folks complain that Christmas is so busy and rushed. I guess the only time Christmas isn’t busy is when you don’t have anyone to celebrate with, or anyone who is counting on you. Bill was one of those folks. He was making it through Christmas as a spectator, not a participant.

You could call Bill an innkeeper. He was an assistant manager at a fairly large hotel and he worked the front desk from time to time checking guests in an out: a modern day innkeeper. As Christmas approached, all the employees were asking for the day off. One of the maids even quit to make sure she wouldn’t be asked to work on the Holiday. Everyone who worked the front desk was hoping that they would not be the one stuck with the duty. In staff meeting Fay, the manager, said that she hated to choose someone, but that the hotel would be open, and while it was not going to be full, there were guests with reservations coming. Someone had to work the desk and be on call. She said that from midnight to noon they could probably get by with just one person. All the desk staff held their breath, each afraid he or she would be the one to have to go home and tell the family they had to work on Christmas. Most of them had children or grandchildren they wanted to be with. Bill knew he would not be asked because as assistant manager he could pull rank on everyone except Fay.

Before Fay could even ask for a volunteer, Mildred asked that she be excused because her son and grandchildren were coming from California. Nicole quickly said, “Well, I want to go see my parents at Christmas. I worked Thanksgiving when Mildred’s daughter came.” Chad said, “I need to be with my kids. My ex is going skiing with her husband and I get the kids.” Then, it all became a jumble of words, with a few tears, and Bill could tell shouts would come next. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled loud and shrill. Everyone startled and stared at him. The whistle had the desired affect—the room went silent. Bill said, “Fay, I will work Christmas. I have no plans and everyone else does.” Bill had only been in town a few months and was living in a one-room efficiency apartment. His parents were dead and his sister lived three states away. He was still reeling from a rough divorce. This Christmas was not one he was looking forward to. Thirty-eight years-old and on his own, he had hoped to have a kid or two by now, but his wife made it clear she did not want to be a mother. He found out what she didn’t want was to be the mother of HIS kids. Just last month he heard she had a son by her new boyfriend. Bill would work. It would give him something to do besides sit at home and watch sentimental old movies on TV. Besides, he could do that sitting at the front desk on a slow day like Christmas promised to be. Everyone thanked him, including Fay. He didn’t really want to be at work on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, but there wasn’t any other place he wanted to be either.

Bill arrived at work on Christmas Eve at 8 p.m. He decided to work half of Marcia’s shift so she wouldn’t miss the whole evening with her family. The hotel had very few guests. It wasn’t even 20 percent occupied. The restaurant had just shut down and none of the meeting rooms, which had been so busy with parties the last two weeks, were in use. Christmas Eve drug by. He watched “A Christmas Carol” and looked for “It’s a Wonderful Life”, but had to settle for some college choir singing classic Christmas carols. The lobby was deserted all evening. The guests came in and went to the elevator. One couple came to the desk because they needed an extra key. Two people stopped by to ask if the restaurant would be open on Christmas Day. It would, but not until 4 p.m. There was one security man on duty. Bill talked with him for about a half an hour, but later he was hard to find. Bill suspected that he was staying away, because he had been consuming Christmas cheer and didn’t want the assistant manager to smell his breath. It was what he had feared—a long, lonely night. He found a deck of cards and laid out a game of solitaire. Even that brought him down. His life was solitaire. About 2 a.m. he did the night audit, which kept him busy and made a couple of hours pass more quickly.

At 8:30 a.m. a man and wife and two kids came in carrying sound equipment, a box of books and some decorations. As the man walked by the desk on his way to the meeting rooms he looked over his burden at Bill and said a hearty “Merry Christmas.” For a moment, Bill was at a loss. He saw the man hurry back and forth taking stuff to the meeting room and looking like he knew what he was doing. It suddenly occurred to Bill that it was not only Christmas, but it was also Sunday. This must be that new church that had been meeting for the last several months in one of the ballrooms. He’d heard about it, but he had never been at work when the church met. The man parked his car and came up to the desk with what looked like a microphone stand in his hand. He said “Hi. I’m the pastor of the Hope Church that meets here. You got stuck with desk duty today. Mildred told me last week she was hoping not to be here today.” Bill said, “Yeah, she had plans, and I didn’t have any. So here I am.” The pastor said, “Well that was a nice thing to do, but it must be a bummer working on Christmas Day. Excuse me, I gotta go set up for worship.”

In about twenty minutes the pastor was back in the lobby to open the door and greet people. When no one was coming in, he stepped over to the desk and talked with Bill. “Expect a crowd today?” asked Bill.

“Don’t know, we usually have 80 or 90 people, but a lot of them are young families and I’m sure they have Santa on their minds today,” said the pastor. “I know my kids do.”

Just then a lady came in carrying a big sheet cake. When it was time for the service to start the pastor said, “Hey, if you can get away from the desk, why not come down to the service?” In a few minutes Bill heard the familiar Christmas carols. He couldn’t really be away from the desk, but he did slip down the hall where he could hear the singing a little better and still see the front desk. When the service was over the people drifted out, talking and laughing, and many of them took a moment to say Merry Christmas to Bill. Some of the men helped the pastor load all the stuff back into his car. Finally, the pastor’s wife and kids came by along with a few more people. The pastor’s little daughter had a paper plate with a big piece of cake on it. She said, “Have a piece of birthday cake.” Bill said, “Whose birthday are you celebrating? Is it yours?” The little girl looked puzzled and replied, “No, it’s Jesus’ birthday.” Bill felt a little embarrassed.

The pastor was the last person out. When he stopped by the desk he reached out to shake Bill’s hand, suddenly, Bill didn’t want to be alone. He asked the pastor what his plans were for the rest of the day. Then, he asked him how long the church had been meeting at the hotel, and how long he expected they would be using it? How many members he had? What was their denominational affiliation? Bill kept asking questions, even though he could tell the man needed to go. Finally, the pastor said good-bye and Merry Christmas and left. Bill felt rather foolish for talking the man’s leg off when he knew the man had family to attend to. It was just that the loneliness seemed to crash around him when the church people reached out to him.
The cake caught his eye. It was a big piece. Bill thought to himself, “How dumb am I? ‘Whose birthday?’” He found a fork and took a bite. As he was chewing, he noticed that someone had left a Bible on the counter. Just then the phone rang and it was the pastor asking about his Bible. He asked Bill to keep it there at the desk and he would pick it up later.

As he finished the birthday cake, he opened the Bible to the place that was marked by one of those ribbon bookmarks attached to the binding. He didn’t figure the pastor would mind him reading his Bible. It opened to Luke chapter 2 where it tells about the birth of Jesus in the Bethlehem stable and the angels appearing to the shepherds and directing them to go see the baby. When it said there was no room for them in the inn, he thought to himself, “They should have stayed here. We have plenty of room.” He came to the part where the angels said they had good news of great joy which was for all people. It stopped him cold. Suddenly, he realized his problem this Christmas. That was what put him in his funk. Sure, he was in a rough spot in his life right now, but he usually handled that okay. He knew that things would get better, but Christmas had brought him down, because it seemed to be for other people: for kids, and people with kids, for families with big meals to share. But the angel said the news of Christmas was for everybody. Was Christmas for him too? The angel went on to say that the baby born in Bethlehem was a Savior, Christ the Lord. The pastor had written a little note in the margin by the word Savior that said “rescuer” and by the word Christ that said “anointed leader.” Bill was going to have to think about this. Jesus was born to rescue people and be their anointed leader. If this news was really for all people, could that mean it was for a lonely man like him too? The shepherds believed it. Could he believe it? Maybe he would ask that pastor about it when he came by to get the Bible.

Slowly, the desk began to get active with phone calls and people checking out. No one could see any difference in Bill on the outside, but something was different inside. He wasn’t sure he believed it all yet, but for the first time in months he felt hope. And hope is just a short step from belief.

(Based on a real-life incident)