Aslan Newsletter of December 9, 1996
In spite of the materialism and consumerism that is associated with Christmas, I still love this wonderful time of year. Maybe the kid in me refuses to become cynical, even though so many people use Christmas as an excuse for "selling" something. As with the shepherds of old, there is still to be found the quietness of a straw-filled stable for those who search for it - even amidst crowded stores, parties, decorations and twinkling lights. There is yet the wondrous look and true light in a child's eyes, as you tell him or her of a long ago time - and yet not so long ago - that the world was quiet and calm for a moment. All was bright, as the Desire of the ages lay wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger.

To combat the craziness of the Christmas rush, we decided this year to ask our Afternoon Youth Leadership classes to collect cans to give to a family in extreme need. I say "extreme" because all of the children we minister to are themselves in serious need. The kids' responses were wonderful. We offered some small prizes to the five who brought in the most cans, but we made sure the children understood this should not be their primary reason for giving.

During the past three weeks, we brought in a total of more than 250 cans! On the last day the children could bring in food, we stopped at the Red Bank housing projects to pick up Matthew. He hopped on the bus but asked us to wait a minute him while he went back to his apartment. A few minutes later, Matthew came running back to the bus with several cans in his hand. We could tell something was wrong when he plopped down in one of the front seats, covered his head with his coat and began sobbing. In a couple of minutes, Matthew was able to tell us why he was so upset. He wanted to bring several more cans, but his sister would not let him. Undoubtedly, his family really needed the food themselves. Matthew had no delusions of winning a prize, because this was his first day to bring any cans. He just wanted to give, but the few cans he had in his bag seemed like such a paltry offering to him.

It was not, however, paltry to God. I know the angels must have rejoiced last Thursday when Matthew got on the Aslan bus. The superficialities of tiny reindeer, a sleigh and a jolly old elf melted away, as a nine-year-old boy learned to give in spite of his own tremendous need.

As 1996 comes to a close and we prepare for the coming new year, we want to express to you how much we appreciate your support of the work of Aslan. We know 1997 will bring so many new opportunities for Aslan to change the world . . . one child at a time. Thank you for caring about this work. Merry Christmas . . . God bless us, everyone!

Most sincerely,