Everything, everything

Christmas Crisis

Christmas Eve. The sky is dark, but the streets are shining with the soft glow of hanging fairy lights and blinking Christmas trees. Even the air seems to be humming with an intense energy -- everything is waiting with bated breath, anticipating the day of its saviour's birth.

Well, everything except for a little girl.

She sits, muscles tensed, on the edge of the sofa, attending Christmas service with her mother via YouTube. She tries, in vain, to recreate what she felt when she asked her mother to go to service with her last year: a profound sadness for the immense sacrifice God has made, and a light happiness for the fact that God would make such a sacrifice to save us from our sins. It was pure faith and devotion. Now, one year later, as she attends the service she had long asked for, the feelings have already evaporated. In her mind and heart is nothing but doubt and self-loathe, for she has found that she cannot believe.

The girl does not have a fully Catholic family -- her dad is not a Catholic -- but one cannot deny that she grew up in a fully Catholic environment. Her maid of ten years was a Catholic, and she went to Catholic schools for as long as she could remember. Between them, they influenced the girl's young mind bit by bit.

At Catholic gatherings, the teachers said, "Catholic girls really are more obedient than others!"

When making casual talk, her maid said, "You are the best ward I've ever had because you are a Catholic!"

And, "You are a good girl as you like Religious Education lessons!"

They told her these things until the girl echoed, "All the top students in my class are Catholics!", until she was puzzled when a particularly kind classmate told her that she did not believe in God -- until she was fully convinced that being a Catholic made her a better person than others.

As the priest preaches on and on about the spirit of Christmas, she cannot help but remember these well-meant messages that have come to haunt her in this period of doubt. She cannot help but question if she is an evil person by not believing; she cannot help but allow tears of guilt to wash over her face.

The priest ends his homily; the service continues. She wades through it, devastated, her mouth mechanically uttering the words her heart cannot process. She ignores her mother's concerned glances -- why bother? She will be disappointed to learn the reason for her sadness.

The service finally ends. The girl's mother turns off the television, putting an arm around her daughter's shoulder.

"Daughter, why are you unhappy?"

The girl remains silent, tensing at the concern in her mother's voice. What is there to say?

"Is it because of school? Your classmates? Too much stress?"

She shakes her head, hugging her knees.

Silence.

"Is it because of current events? Too much violence lately?"

The girl shrugs lightly. "Not really," she whispers.

The mother pauses, studying her daughter. How fast she grows, she thinks.

She tries again. "Is it... because of something the priest said?"

The girl shrugs again. "Kind of." She hugs her knees closer to herself.

Then, it dawns on the mother. "You're... starting to doubt God's existence?"

The girl stares at her mother, her mouth hanging half-open. Then, she bursts out crying.

"Shh... Don't cry... It's okay..." The mother pats the girl's back gently. "I don't expect you to share my beliefs."

The girl looks up in surprise, tears still streaming down her pale face.

"I was incredulous when I first went to religious gatherings," the mother continues. "Then, I slowly realized that religion could be an anchor in my life, something that I can constantly rely on.

"You don't have to make up your mind now. But I hope you can continue coming to church and learn more about God before you make a decision."

The girl sits very still.

"Your dad is not a Catholic, but he is a good man."

The girl stares at her mother. Her mother nods twice and hugs her.

Christmas music floats in through the open window. "This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special..." This year, the girl's heart is closed to God. But as she relaxes into the familiar embrace, she thinks that she wouldn't mind giving it to her mother instead.

Everything is alright, after all.

A/N: Hello, it's Lorrine, back with some weird writings 😬

I understand that not many people have such supportive parents who try their best to accept their children, especially regarding religious beliefs. So, if anyone wants a place to rant, you are welcome to DM me! I may not be the best at comforting, but if you just want to let out your feelings, feel free to rant away :)

Also, no regular updates promised. I write whenever I feel like it 😁