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Journalism of Courage
Vincent, my archbishop, told us this little story by way of a Christmas tale about a rich man and a poor child. The man had just come out of a shop, carrying a small package, bound in festive ribbon. A little boy stood near by, looking at the man with the pretty gift in his hand. At last the child mustered courage and asked, 8220;What is in the gift box?8221; The man was taken aback. Perhaps the child wanted a little gift for himself. 8220;It is a watch I am buying for my brother,8221; he said. Waiting for a normal response, the man was taken aback when the boy replied 8220;I wish I was a brother like that.8221;
Perhaps he had not heard it right, the man thought. But he had. The child had indeed said 8220;was8221;. The man bent down to the level of the boy and asked him what he meant. The boy told his story. 8220;My brother cannot walk. It is my dream to grow up and work so that I can buy him a wheelchair, take him around and show him this beautiful town.8221;
Christmas is not about celebrations alone. It is in realising that someone, God as we call Him, so loved us all in our spiritual slums that he sent his own Son to cheer us up. We call it Salvation. I am touching sixty, Vincent is past seventy. We both had moist eyes.
Or was it just the fading light in this fog-bound city? God knows.
The writer is national president, All India Catholic Union
