This will seem an odd posting to qualify as "The Christmas Blessing:" Indeed, it's all about burglary, deceipt and violation, not the usual fodder for stories of hope and good tidings to all men. But a blessing it was nonetheless. Let me tell you about it...

Last Monday I came home from work to find that my modest home had been burgled. Someone used a pry bar to force the lock on my back door and ransacked their way through the house in search of high-ticket, easily-pawned small items (little did my bumbling burglar realize that I am Queen of the Trash Pickin' Thrift Shop Set and I did not have any "high-ticket items" in attendance except those that I use to earn my livelihood).

Although every item that was stolen is merely a "material thing" and therefore replaceable in theory, there are still those things I rue that cannot be replaced, like my mother's sterling silver wedding band, my beautiful Canon XHA1 miniDV video camera bought to finish my Pennhurst Project documentary and that beloved Sony ECM 717 stereo lapel microphone received as a graduation present from my brilliant thesis advisor, Veronica. And, oh, how to replace the chunky silver Moravian star pendant made in my senior year in high school or the hammered wire ring wrought as a testament to my 1970s free spirit. Or how about the gold watch that my friend Yvie gave me, along with a luscious chocolate cake, to celebrate my forced early retirement from The Morning Call? How do you even think about replacing such memories? Trouble is, I can't. The memories, that is. To every material thing that we attach ourselves to, it's the memory surrounding the acquisition of the item that remains uncorrupted and incorrigible. It's the blessing of memory that can't be stolen or violated by thieves and pillagers.

I wondered at the time why the burglar took what he/she did but left other things behind. A tip from my sister reveals that I may have been the victim of one of the "backpack burglars" that are plaguing neighborhoods across the country. These misguided souls come to an area wearing a backpack and knock on doors to find out who is not home, then quickly break in and take only what will fit in their backpack. They are in and out in ten minutes and therefore not usually noticed by anyone in the neighborhood. A guy wearing a backpack walking down the street doesn't attract too much attention, or so they think.

And although my humble abode was violated, my first response is to pray for the thief's ultimate redemption. Call me sentimental but this is, after all, the season of miracles. I know that God has done far more with much less. Like George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life," I was ready to throw my faith to the wind after yet another stroke of bad fortune. But then I remembered, like George, how blessed I truly am with a warm home and a new job and friends and family who truly care about me. The thief who invaded my home certainly can't have any of that, else why do what he did? So I will pray for him and the others like him who have no conscience. After all, if I don't, then who else will?  And I will continue to hold onto the hope that God will work His miracles in His own way and time.

As fellow blogger Ron Reed puts it:

     "[Christmas is a] time when refugees shelter in animal sheds to give birth, when politicos protect  their power with mass murder, when God sends messengers to keep saying over and over, "Fear not." A time when, against all odds and all fears, a baby is born, and lives long enough to make a difference.

     The deeper truth [in this film and in life] lies in sacrifice, community, leaving aside self-preoccupation to engage with other people's lives, to further other people's dreams. And that's where IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE shines. There's a maturity there - a Depression-raised, war-deepened realization that, in the final analysis, it's not all about me. "

"It's a Wonderful Life" 1946, Frank Capra

Thank God that I, like my old Building and Loan Pal George, still choose to believe. Yes, it truly is a wonderful life.

I wish you all a blessed and happy Christmas season.