As Christmas approached
when our granddaughter, Brigid, was four years old, she said to her mother:
“You know, Santa and Grandpa are a lot alike. Santa has a bald head, and
Grandpa has a bald head. Santa has a white beard, and Grandpa has a white
beard. Santa brings you toys, and Grandpa brings toys. But Grandpa is better,
because he stays and plays.”
Yes, I tell this story
every Christmas, for it is, I think, the best explanation of Christmas that I
know. God is not just some Santa, rushing from one place to another, making a
brief stop on the roof of the world to throw down a few goodies. In Jesus, the
Christ, God stays and plays.
John Robert McFarland
Helen is not a theoretical
physicist, by profession or inclination, but she does have remarkable
theoretical insights into the space-time continuum. She says that the shortest
measure of time is from when a grandchild is born to when they’re all grown up.
Brigid is now 24.
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