Jingle Bells

Getting through church has been a challenge lately.

With four kids under the age of eight who all have a mind of their own, I'm lucky if I get to hear even five cumulative minutes of the Sacrament Meeting talks.

Each week we bring coloring books and other appropriate distractions to keep the kids occupied, in hopes that we can make it through the first hour without some sort of meltdown that causes everyone to question our parenting skills. This is not always successful.

In addition, when one kid "has" to go potty, suddenly all the kids "have" to go potty. Getting them to come back in is tough; trying to get them all to remain quietly seated for an hour is an exercise in futility. Living in a ward with your boss' boss and his boss really makes you wish for their best behavior.

Even though neither we nor they seem to get much out of Sacrament Meeting, I know that we need to be consistent and set a good example. My mom never faltered in taking us to church, even though all five of us caused plenty of ruckus on our own. Her example was critical when I encountered a crisis of faith as a young man. Our kids need to be at church and need to see us at church.

Still, it's nice when we're actually able to pay attention.

Recently, as a stroke of genius, Stef had the idea to give Kelsey some responsibility and have her take Kaya on walks through the halls during Sacrament Meeting. Though we still have to deal with two kids who might try to get up and bolt at any given moment, it's easier than getting pulled in four different directions.

Today, thanks to Kelsey, we actually got to half-listen to one of the talks, as well as a surprisingly-not-horrible rendition of O Holy Night. It was great; with O Holy Night, if it's not just about perfect, it's usually terrible.

At the conclusion of the meeting, the woman offering the benediction thanked her Heavenly Father for the gift of His Son. Upon hearing her plead that we would all remember the true spirit of Christmas, I could swear that Christmas bells were ringing faintly in the distance. As the prayer grew longer, the ringing grew stronger. Soon, the ringing was so loud that nobody in the congregation could ignore it.

At the very moment that the prayer ended, the Christmas bells arrived at the open door to the chapel. "Amen," we all repeated, whipping our heads around to see what was causing all the commotion.

In came Kaya with a huge smile on her face and a bell in her hand. I shook my head and chuckled, burying my head in my hands. Seeing the others' laughs and understanding smiles through my fingers dissolved all worry.

I sure love these kids.

Christmas in Japan

It's Christmas Eve here in Japan, and I'm sitting at school, having taught all my classes for the day. If I didn't specifically request to have tomorrow off, I'd be working on Christmas as well. Christmas in Japan is much different than Christmas in America, and I'll tell you how.

All right. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine a traditional American Christmas--a time when couples go out on a romantic date, then stay the night at a fancy hotel. To maintain the true spirit of Christmas, department stores and shopping malls play traditional Christmas songs like Mariah Carey's All I Want for Christmas is You and Last Christmas by Wham!

For Christmas dinner, perhaps you've ordered the traditional plate of fried chicken, possibly weeks in advance, from a place like Kentucky Fried Chicken. As the breadwinner of the family, you stop by the store on the way home from work and pick up the Christmas cake, which everybody in the country is eating. Perhaps you even have a Christmas Party lined up, where people will all make Christmas cakes and you'll judge them on taste and design. On the table, along with the cakes and fried chicken, is a plate of sandwiches on white bread with the crusts cut off.

The kids have all left their stockings on their pillow in their bedroom so that Santa, who comes all the way from his home in Finland, will be able to access them easily. Santa will give you your one and only present, and if you're lucky, it'll be something other than a scarf. But you don't really care, since you're going to be getting loads of presents for New Year's Day. Isn't Christmas in America great?

The past two weeks, I've been giving three or four short presentations a day about Christmas in America. I've been just as surprised as the kids have to discover the differences between the traditional American Christmas and the way the Japanese celebrate it, which is obviously what I've described above.

Not even touching on obvious omissions like the Nativity, it really is a different holiday here--much more like Valentine's Day. Everybody knows that Christmas is a western holiday, so all the students and teachers are shocked to hear that their Christmas traditions haven't actually come from America (granted, some of the "traditions" I readily mock may actually be tradition in Europe, but I don't really know--and it's a lot easier to just point and laugh).

Kids here are blown away when I tell them how many presents we traditionally get in America. They're even more shocked when I tell them that we don't exchange presents on New Years. "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh?" is the universal response. Christmas in America is very similar to New Year's Day in Japan.

Perhaps my favorite part of Christmas festivities this year happened on my island school, Sekizen Junior High. My teacher wanted to sing a popular traditional Christmas song from America, so she chose Wham!'s Last Christmas. Not Jingle Bells, White Christmas, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, or Silent Night. George Michael (the singer/songwriter). From England. Singing about how heartbroken he is on Christmas this year, because he gave his heart to someone who he knew so well that she (or he, I guess) didn't even recognize him only a year later.

I think Christmas would be a bit more depressing here if it actually reminded me of what I was missing at home. Sure, I'm sad that I don't get to spend Christmas with our families (though we did get to see Stef's parents just a couple weeks ago, and we opened up presents with them). But I've got Stef, the girls, and the sweet voice of George Michael to soothe my soul.