From the Relief Society Magazine, December 1967 –

The Christmas Lamb

By Elaine M. Murray

You probably wouldn’t have recognized Kim on this day, the day of his visit to the Christmas Room of the art gallery. This was about the only day of the year that he didn’t complain about combing his hair and wearing his good clothes. He had even washed behind his ears and cleaned his fingernails without being reminded. No, you wouldn’t have recognized him at all as he stepped into that beautiful, peaceful room – with music playing ever so softly. There was always a sparkle in Kim’s eyes, but today as he stepped into the Christmas Room, there was a new kind of sparkle in his eyes – not his daily sparkle which was like a brook bubbling and laughing as it tumbled over the rocks in its downward frolicking. it was more like the sparkle in a clear, deep mountain pool, as the rays of the sun frost it with an almost celestial radiance. There was so much depth and love as he looked at each painting in that special room.

Not just any painting would qualify, for this room was opened only during the Christmas season each year. The paintings had to be the best and not just well-painted. They had to be more than good examples of painting technique, for this was a room for feeling as well as looking. One did not stand back and say, “What an excellent painting! I would like to meet the artist who painted that one.” Rather, one would look, be drawn closer, and say to himself, “I wish I could have been there at that first Christmas. I wish I could meet Jesus.” So, although many paintings were submitted, only a few were chosen, usually only one new one each year, for this special Christmas Room.

Kim sat on the bench in the middle of the room, quietly sliding along as he looked intently at each picture, absorbing what each one had to say. He was never in a hurry here. There were seldom many people here in the morning; that is why he chose this time of day. Only one other person was in the room with him this morning. He enjoyed each of the old familiar pictures and saved the new one for the last. Each one had a special message for him, but there was something about this last one that held him an extra long time. What was so different about this one? He had the strangest feeling that he had seen it before, but that was impossible; it was the new one. It would not have been shown anywhere else. He walked closer to it. The scene was typical, with the Holy Family in the stable, the animals nearby. The shepherds were there, standing and kneeling before the Christ child; the new star in the heavens shone brilliantly and illuminated the cradle and the sleeping baby. It must have been the very young shepherd, who brought him closer and closer, the small one near the doorway. His face was nestled against the soft, white wool of the lamb he was holding. The eyes of the little shepherd were full of wonder and love. They seemed to be saying, “So this is the little baby who will grow up to be the Savior of the world and the King of my people!”

There was something about that shepherd boy that compelled him to walk nearer. He looked deep into the little shepherd’s eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts. What was there about this boy? He even reached out to stroke the lamb, when a hand touched his elbow. Kim jerked, startled, and looked into the face of the other viewer, a young man.

“But, but look, look, that is I!” he gasped. “I mean, I …” He stammered and blushed. “He looks like me!”

The man looked at the picture and at Kim.

“Yes, he does,” he said, “they were just like you and me.”

“I wonder if the boy gave his lamb to Jesus. See how tightly he holds it. I wonder if he gave it to Jesus. I wish I had been there. I would have given it to him.”

“You still can.”

“But I don’t have a lamb, and I can’t see Jesus except when I close my eyes or look at a picture.”

“You still can give him a birthday gift. You can …”

Kim’s mother appeared at the doorway and beckoned to him. Kim looked at the man, the picture, and at his mother. He hesitated. His mother motioned for him to hurry.

The image of the picture, especially the shepherd boy holding the lamb, and the man’s voice and words, were with him all the way home. All the following week they were his companions. He tried to shake them off as he helped with the decorating of the tree, making cookies, running errands, and wrapping packages, but he could not lose them or blot them out. He was becoming more and more upset.

When the last package was wrapped and put under the tree, Kim looked as if he were ready to burst and he blurted out in frustration, “But I don’t have a gift for Jesus!”

His mother looked up in surprise. “What?” she asked.

“Well, it’s his birthday. We have presents for each other. We’ve given lots of gifts … and … we’ve received lots of gifts … and … well … it’s not our birthday. It’s his birthday, and I don’t have a gift for him. And if I had one, how would I give it to him? The man in the Christmas Room said that I could, but I can’t, I can’t! I don’t know how!”

He was almost crying. His mother dropped the tinsel she had been picking up fro the floor. She put one arm around his shoulders, put her other hand under his chin, and lifted his face. She looked thoughtfully into his tear-filled eyes. This was not like Kim.

He told her about the shepherd boy, who looked just like him, and his lamb, and about his conversation with the man at the art gallery.

“Kim, if you were to ask Jesus what he wanted for his birthday, what you could do for him, do you know what he would say?”

“No.”

“He would say that ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.’ Do you remember the story about the rich young man who came to Jesus and asked him how to be happy? Jesus told him that to find happiness he should sell all his possessions and give to the poor and needy. That rich young man couldn’t do it. Can you?”

“But I don’t have great possessions to sell so that I can help the poor and needy. Besides, I don’t know any people in need.”

“People can be poor in many ways. Some are wanting in spirit.” She paused and then continued, “Do you know someone you don’t like very well?”

“Grouchy Jake. He grumbles if we even look at his old flowers.”

“Maybe he watches them so closely and tends them so carefully because his flowers are all that he has. The flowers are his world. He has no family and very few good friends.” There was a short silence and she continued rather hesitantly, “Kim, what do you want most for Christmas?”

“A clock radio.”

“It’s in the blue package with the red bow at the back of the tree.”

“Oh, but Mother, I couldn’t …”

“I know Grouchy Jake doesn’t have one.”

“But I …:

“Do you think that shepherd boy loved the lamb? Do you think that he gave it to Jesus? Think about it.” She looked intently into his eyes, gave him a big hug and left the room.

Kim closed his eyes an saw the shepherd boy with his face nestled against the lamb, and thought of how closely he held it to him, thought of his own words to the young man at the Christmas Room. I wish I had been there. I would have given it to him.” He thought, too, of Grouchy Jake and how he always frowned and grumbled if the boys and girls even came near his yard. Then he ran to his room, knelt beside his bed, and prayed as he had never prayed before and asked Heavenly Father what gift he could give to his Son.

He was very quiet all the rest of that day and the next, which was the day before Christmas. After dinner, without saying anything to anybody, he got down from the table, walked slowly to the closet, took out his jacket and put it on. Very, very slowly he walked over to the Christmas tree, reached to the very back and picked up the blue package with the red bow, and ever so slowly left the house.

He was gone for a long time, and his mother began to fee a little uneasy – until she heard him running up the walk. He took all the steps in one big leap and threw open the door. “Mother, Mother, Mr. Jake is nice!” he shouted as he went to the closet to hang up his jacket. He sat down on the arm of his other’s chair, and once again, with a sparkle in his eyes, and with conviction in his voice, he said, “Mother, if I had been there at that first Christmas, I would have given Jesus my lamb.”