THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. An African Christmas Story (standard:non fiction, 0 words)
Author: osofoaddo	Added: Jul 05 2001	Views/Reads: 3809/2345	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
It happened in a devastated African Village on a Christmas Eve. Read On I don't want to spoil the Story for you

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Christmases and the present suffering, I heard the horn of a car. Not 
just one horn, but several cars were approaching our village. 

At first, we all thought the cars were full of men with machine guns, so
we hid in the forest. To our surprise, they were not enemies, and they 
did not have guns. They were just ordinary travelers. It seemed the 
soldiers had destroyed the bridge over the river near our village last 
April when they left. Since it was almost dusk, and there were rumors 
that there were land mines on the roads, the travelers did not want to 
take any chances. Their detour led them straight to our village. When 
they saw us, they were shocked and horrified at the suffering and the 
devastation all around us. Many of the travelers cried. They confirmed 
that tonight really was Christmas Eve. They were on their way to their 
own villages to celebrate Christmas with family and friends. Now, 
circumstances brought them to us at this time, on this night before 
Christmas. They shared the little food they had with us. They even 
helped build a fire in the center of the marketplace to keep us warm. 
Earlier, when we first returned to the village, my grandmother told me 
that my oldest sister was expecting a baby, but she had been in a state 
of shock and speechless since we all escaped from the soldiers. Now, in 
the middle of all the excitement with the visitors, my sister became 
ill and could not stand up. 

I was so afraid for my sister because we did not have any medical
supplies, and we were not near a hospital. Some of the travelers and 
the villagers removed their shirts and clothes to make a bed for my 
sister to lie close to the fire. On that Christmas Eve night, my sister 
gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. 

This called for a celebration, war or no war. Africans have to dance,
and we celebrated until the rooster crowed at 6 a.m. We sang Christmas 
songs. Everyone sang in his or her own language. For the first time, 
all the pain and agony of the past few months left me. When morning 
finally came, my sister was asked, "What are you going to name the 
baby?" 

Would you believe for the first time since our village was burned and
all the young girls and boys were taken away, she spoke? She said, "His 
name is Gye Nyame, which means, except God I fear none." 

And so, we celebrated Christmas. Christmas really did come to our
village that night, but it did not come in the cars or with the 
travelers. It came in the birth of my nephew. In the midst of our 
suffering, we saw hope in what this little child could do. This birth 
turned out to be the universal story of how bad things were turned into 
universal hope by the birth of the Baby Jesus. A miracle occurred that 
night before Christmas, and all of a sudden I knew we were not alone 
any more. Now, I knew there was hope, and I learned that Christmas 
comes in spite of all circumstances. Christmas is always within us all. 
Christmas came even to our village that night. 

Author Bio 

The Rev. P.E. Adotey Addo of Greensboro is retired from teaching
religion and philosophy at Bennett College, Greensboro, NC where he 
also was the College Chaplain. A distinguished biologist he is a native 
of Ghana, and likes African folktales. He is often invited to Triad 
schools as a storyteller. He also enjoys  web sites . 
www.relnet.com/addo 


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