Avia hitsaoka azy

“Oh come, let us adore him!”

It was an ordinary day in an ordinary town with ordinary people. People followed a familiar routine or travelled to a familiar place.

And right in the midst of the expected was the setting for the most extraordinary of people to be born. Some saw the signs and knew of the miracle that had taken place, but most continued on, oblivious to the humble way in which the world changed.

But Mary treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart. LUKE 2:19

I can’t help but be in awe of Mary. How her life as a humble servant of God put her there to experience the coming of Christ into the world with only her husband to be and some really excited strangers from the field nearby.

For Mary, this was new. And maybe, as I celebrate her story in a new time and place, that’s why I feel so drawn to her.

Many American friends and family have asked me, what are some Christmas traditions in “Madagascar?” The question stops me in my tracks as I look around, searching buildings for traditions as flashy as strings of lights, big trees, blow up santas, Black Friday or toyland adds in the paper and on t.v., and white Christmas playing down the street.

How can I explain how subtle Christmas is without making it sound unappreciated? It is the things we love in everyday life amplified as we celebrate. Its singing with the choir (30 songs instead of 4), eating rice (and less neighbors go hungry), dancing in the living room with my family (to Christmas music and every other song we like). Its loud music coming from every direction until the power goes out, then getting even louder when it comes back on again. It’s fruit juice and trying new sides on our rice.

Its the number of henan’dambo (pork) stands exploding and taking over the market on Christmas eve. Its the extra few tents in the market lined with red and white dresses and a heap of toys on the table in the middle. It’s learning Oh Holy Night, Oh Come All ye Faithful, and Silent Night in Malagasy. It’s the massive tree in front of the Toby with flashing lights and a rainbow of garland, plus the 18″ version we have at home standing on top of the trash can. It’s Christmas pageants with songs, recitation and (baby Jesus) dolls galore on the last day of school and Christmas eve.

Its also sharing experiences and traditions I know. Its drawing stockings and cutting paper snowflakes to glue to the cement walls. Its baking and frosting Christmas cookies with my host siblings. Its teaching Christmas songs to my classes, then downloading 50 Christmas songs in English to share with my family just to listen to the same 5 that they really like over and over.

Its the way my host brother begs for my phone to play the Pentatonix version of Mary, Did you Know? on repeat every single day. Its watching my host dads face, his eyes closed and his head bowed and swaying as he heard it for the first time.

I’ve been gathering all these things. The new, the familiar, the ordinary, and the foreign. As we experience Christmas together, my family and friends categorize these activities differently than I do, making experiencing them together even more special. They create a masterpiece of a season filled with wonder, joy, and a greater sense of belonging with the people I share it with.

As she pondered those things in her heart, I am more certain than ever that Mary did know. Not the facts and times and details of how her sons life would unfold, but a deeper knowing. An underlying peace and assurance of Immanuel, God with us.