Flurries of snow swirled on a chilly Christmas Eve. A man waved through the plate glass front window as his wife and children drove away to attend the annual Christmas service. He couldn’t understand all the fuss about Jesus.
Alone, he went about decorating the family tree. Suddenly, he heard a “thump” against the window, and then another, and another, “thump . . . thump.” He looked out to investigate and there, shivering on the ground outside the window, lay several tiny sparrows attracted by the light.
Touched, he went to the garage, turned on the light, and opened the door. They didn’t move. He got behind them and tried to shoo them in. They scattered. He made a trail into the garage by crumbling some crackers. They wouldn’t budge.
He was frustrated as it sunk in that he was a giant, alien creature who terrified the tiny birds. Why couldn’t he make them understand that what he wanted more than anything was to help them?
Disheartened, he went back inside and stared out the window at the little, frightened birds. Then, like a bolt of lightning a thought struck him. If only I could become a little bird myself. . . for just a moment. Then they wouldn’t be afraid and I could show them how to find warmth and safety.
Just then it dawned on him. Now I understand. That’s why Jesus came.