The Christmas Figure

By: Nanju Francisco

It was the day before Christmas and it was late in the evening. People rushed to the malls to buy gifts for their loved ones and do their last-minute shopping. Everyone was filled with excitement and joy, going about their business. I was one of those who trekked to the malls that Christmas Eve.

The grocery was filled with shoppers who, like me, had trouble finding what they needed because everyone else wanted it. I was relieved to see what I needed quickly. I felt proud and happy with my little accomplishment.

It was already past eight in the evening, so I had to push myself toward the long queue and prayed that I could get out of the grocery soon. I managed to get out of the long queue after 45 minutes. I regretted this last-minute action and swore never to go to the grocery on Christmas Eve again.

As I was walking down the hall toward the exit of the mall, I couldn’t help but watch everyone around me. It was exciting to see everyone do their 11th-hour shopping, just like me. My eyes turned toward the area in front of me with several empty stalls covered with dark-colored glasses, reflecting the entire hallway scene—like a scene in a movie—in slow motion.

The people in the glass windows of the empty stalls appeared like ghostly and stretched figures as if they were acting out in a Christmas movie. It was odd and fascinating to watch the entire scene in the glass windows.

What I saw was beautiful. I saw families shopping together—dad, mom, and children walking hand in hand with their shopping bags and gifts on hand. Then, I saw friends in groups of two, three, and more. They were laughing and teasing each other, enjoying their youth and time together.

Next, I saw husbands and wives, as well as lovers, holding each other’s hands as they walked down the hall, strolling and taking their time looking at every window shop, without a care in the world. Everyone belonged in a group, and it was a lovely sight to behold. Give love on Christmas Day, as the song urges, and so everyone was giving love to each other tonight.

Finally, something in the reflections caught my attention. It was a sad image—a lone figure walking amid all these happy groups—alone and serious—carrying all those heavy shopping bags without anyone to help her. I pitied this Christmas figure. What could have happened to this poor soul that she should be alone on Christmas Eve? She must be so sad—wandering around the mall—without someone to help her carry her bags and keep her company while shopping.

Poor creature, I thought. If only I could help her carry her grocery bags and perhaps treat her to a restaurant to make her happy. Maybe my gesture would bring a smile to her face. I decided to act and walked quickly toward the stall in front of me. I wanted to catch up with the figure to check who this sad person was and how I could help lighten her burden.

I was just fifty feet away from her and excited at the thought of meeting a new friend that I was almost running. As I approached this lonely figure, I stopped dead in my tracks. Suddenly, time seemed to stop. My eyes were wide open in shock as I realized who that Christmas figure was. I suddenly realized that I was staring at my own reflection. It was me! I was that “poor” Christmas figure!

Teary-eyed, I touched my reflection in the glass window. I stared at it for some time. I’ve never felt so alone in my life until now. I lost my parents and my two older sisters many years back so I had no one to talk to. One of my brothers was working abroad and the other one was in the province. All my life, I was so busy taking care of everyone that I had forgotten to take care of myself.

A wave of realization washed over me. I understood that the true spirit of Christmas wasn't just about the hustle and bustle of shopping or the joy of giving to others; it was also about loving yourself, self-compassion and connection. At that moment, I remembered that I was not alone because Christ the Child was born, and He is with me.

I made a silent vow to embrace the beauty of the season, not just for others, but for myself as well. With renewed determination, I turned away from the stall, knowing I deserved to celebrate the holiday and be happy just as much as anyone else.