Bright Shining Star

I woke up this morning, and as I got ready for work, instead of waking up late, and rushing out the door, I decided to take a different approach. I woke up about 30 minutes before I originally planned, got ready, made breakfast, the usual. I rarely take the time to sit down and actually eat my breakfast, it typically involves me grabbing a protein. bar and running out the door (thanks to chemo, those are ruined for me.. sad) But, today was different. So, as I sat down, I just thought about everything. I am not really sure what everything is, I know I was feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything that has gone on these past few months. So, instead of dwelling on it, I opened my laptop and went to lds.org. The first thing I saw was a message given by President Thomas S. Monson, president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He gave a beautiful message of peace and good tidings this holiday season. My favorite part of his devotional was a story he told by John B. Matheson Jr. The story takes place in war torn Germany, Christmas of 1945.

Here is a photo of President Monson, he truly is a remarkable man. A true disciple of Christ. I admire him, and look up to him in so many ways.



"During Christmas 1945, John Matheson found himself serving in the army of occupation in Frankfurt, Germany. World War II had ended about seven months earlier, but during the conflict the city of Frankfurt had suffered much destruction. Most of the city was rubble. Many of the homes which had been left unscathed were taken over for housing the United States military. John and two other officers lived in a three-story house that easily could have served as a home for three families.

Each weekday, John and the other two officers would go to their office and return in the evening to find the beds made and the house spotlessly cleaned by an elderly German woman who was hired by the United States Army to be housekeeper for a number of houses in the area. Only occasionally would they see this frail little lady as she busily engaged in her tasks. Their conversations with her were limited, for she spoke no English and their German was poor; but through a sort of sign language and through smiles, they indicated satisfaction with her work.

Weekly, John went to the post exchange to get his ration of candy bars, soap, and incidentals. Though he sometimes grumbled about the poor selection available, he always purchased all he was allowed and put the excess into his footlocker.

As Christmas approached, John thought he should give some gift to the housekeeper; so from the abundance of his footlocker, he filled a large cardboard box with candy bars, soap, and cans of fruit juice. He knew that in the system of barter among the Germans, his gift to her was worth many, many dollars, but the cost to him was negligible.

Knowing she would not work on Christmas Day, as John left for the office on December 24th, he placed on the table where it would be seen his gift box and a Christmas greeting. All day he felt rather smug as he thought of his generous gift. The housekeeper would be like an heiress in the poverty of her neighborhood. How lucky she was, he thought. How beholden she would be to him—to the generous American. And yet his gift was not given in compassion but merely out of pity and for self-satisfaction.

As he approached the house in the darkness of the December evening, he saw the dim glow of the lamp filtering through the window. The house was still. He entered the home and saw that his gift and the recipient were gone. However, in the glow of that lamp, he saw on the table her Christmas note and her gift to him. He had expected no gift, but there it was—all she could afford and given in the spirit of Christmas.

What could a poor little old lady give? She could give from her poverty and from her heart her fondest memories of her beloved city of yesteryear, and she could give the Christmas star.

On that dimly lit table, along with her painstakingly written “Merry Christmas,” were 10 old and dog-eared picture postcard scenes of Frankfurt as it had appeared before the war had so devastated it. The housekeeper had placed each card on edge and fastened them together so that every 2 cards formed a point and all 10 together formed the Christmas star.

She had little to give. In fact, it was all she had. Though John Matheson lived to see many more Christmases, that little housekeeper’s Christmas star shone brightly throughout his life. He said that her “star of Bethlehem” implanted within him the Christmas spirit and taught him the true meaning of love and giving."


This story reminded me of the true meaning of this holiday season. It's funny, I look back at all the times where material things were so important to me. To me, Beauty was how someone looked, more so than how they portrayed themselves. I would try to see the inner beauty, but, I feel like I was more critical of the outward appearance. I have truly been humbled, I have been reminded of the importance of family, friendships, faith, the meaning of this holiday season. I have been reminded of how fragile life truly is, and how in a moment, it can literally change. I am so grateful for this experience. I know at times I complain about it, I complain about the fact that my hair is now officially gone. (yes I wear wig now) I complain about how uncomfortable I feel, or how after picking up a package from the UPS guy, I get completely worn out and have to sit down for 10 minutes to gain some form of strength back. I complain about it all. But, after I have my mini "pity party" I get back up and keep on living.

I realize that right now, this is has been the hardest thing PHYSICALLY, that I have ever had to do. It's taught me endurance, humility, gratitude, patience (Well, that will always be a work in progress for me)

Okay, so I realize, I type alot. But, my heart is so full right now. I am again so appreciative of each and everyone of you. You guys have all been a huge source of strength for me. And for that I am forever grateful.