Drippings of Grace: ~ Christmas in Chicago

I’m a southern girl through and through, and I dream of tender Tennessee Christmases with my family, but there is something quite magical about Chicago during the holidays.

It had been 25 years since we had celebrated Christmas in Chicago. I always knew I wanted to take my children back and experience it with them. So this year, we decided spur of the moment to take a little family time in the windy city.

We had just taken our exit, curved to the right and found ourselves in the beauty and chaos that is Chicago. As we pulled up to the first red light, I saw him about three cars ahead of us. He had a spray bottle and a smile and was looking to earn a little money. It dawned on me that I had not quite prepared my children for this trip, and I blurted out, “Boys, you’re going to see things in Chicago that you don’t see where we live.” The three younger boys had their necks craned looking at all the skyscrapers, but my oldest saw him. He asked me what I meant by that, and I explained to him about homelessness and poverty, and he said, “Like that man back there?” I knew he had seen him.

We were driving down Michigan Avenue and winding our way across the river to State Street when I saw her desperation. Her sign said, “I lost my job. I have four children. I just need to feed my family.” The three younger boys were taking in all the sights along the river, but I knew he saw her. And later when we walked past the young girl who sat with her eyes closed just inside a doorway so as not to be trampled, I saw his eyes look down to read her sign. “I’m not a bad girl, I just made bad choices.” She never opened her eyes, but he saw her. I know he’s seen poverty. He’s seen the sick and broken and hungry and homeless in other countries but never this close to home.

I had struggled initially with the decision to take the boys to Chicago because we had decided to approach Christmas differently this year. In trying to teach the boys what Christmas really means, we had been working on getting them to sacrifice their own wishes and dreams for the sake of others who had needs. We decided as a family to simplify our Christmas, and the boys eagerly chose to send a goat and two chickens to a village somewhere around the world so another family would have a means to feed their children. Taking them to Chicago with all the lights and glitz just seemed at first like a step in the wrong direction.

But as we looked beyond the lights and the glitz, we saw the very reason why Christ came in the first place.

At the end of our first night, we were waiting in line to take a carriage ride down Michigan Avenue. As we got closer to the front of the line, I heard a Salvation Army bell ringer singing and talking to people as they passed by.

A woman approached her carrying a small box. She reached to put something in the bucket and then proceeded to empty her box a few coins at a time. It took several minutes for her to empty the box, but when she walked away, the bell-ringer turned to us with her toothless grin and began shouting, “Did you see that? They was all quartas!!” She praised and smiled and raised her hands, and I can assure you, he noticed!

The next day, we saw the windows on State Street, experienced the over-crowded but yummy Christkindlmarket, and watched the ice skaters at Millennium Park.

I began to notice that every time I gave my oldest money to buy something, he asked if he could keep the change. Before we left, I watched him walk proudly to a Salvation Army bell ringer and empty his pockets and my mommy heart melted! I thought we were just going to have a special family time. I had no idea God would paint such a vivid picture in my young one’s mind of what the season is all about.

Here are some of the highlights of our trip:

The view from our hotel room just a block from Lake Michigan.

Visiting Santa at Water Tower Place

The Chicago Water Tower was the only public building in the burned zone to survive the Fire of 1871. It is just one of a few of the surviving structures still standing.