In a little stable, not far from Jerusalem a baby boy was born on the eve of midwinter to the family of a humble carpenter. The parents of the newborn boy headed for the border of Egypt to seek sanctuary and shelter, because in those days many, many children were killed by the soldiers of Israel, at the behest of their ruler. The escape attempt, however, came to no avail, for the border was closed. As were all other routs, that would have saved the little family. There they remained at the mercy of a raging enemy, who were so indiscriminate in their vengefull killing spree to destroy a vile enemy, that they even killed their own unarmed civillians who had been held hostage by their enemies.

Unlike most of their neighbours, this family of our story was Christian, but did the Christians of the world come to their aid? No, most of them were all too busy building fences to stop anyone in need of help from getting into their countries, because that was what Jesus really meant, when he told his followers to sell all their property and give the money to the poor.

For years this family had suffered abuse and exploitation, as their grandparent’s olive trees were cut down by a bunch of squatters and their house was raised to ground. Now in the rubble of their home town, that had first been turned into a ghetto and a prison, it was finally over. God had given the ancestral land of this small family, to some chosen people who had been promised it thousands of years ago in a book.

Have a nice yule tide, happy hanukkah, merry christmas, saturnalia, joyous bobunk, quanza, or what ever!