MEDIUM RARE Jullie Y. Daza Stealthily, as if no one’s watching, it’s arriving, tonight. Christmas Eve, the magical moment of midnight signaling the arrival of the Baby who was born that he might die 33 years later, a common criminal condemned by the very people who had hailed him as their king. That’s why the story of Christmas is so endearing. The world loves a baby, the world wants to be respected as a caring human race. Christmas brings out the best in people, so it is assumed. For one brief shining moment kindness and goodness reign. Peace is achievable, enemies are urged to declare a truce, Christians pray and hope their ardent prayers will work. For unto us a Child is born. But Christians know that the new calendar hanging on the wall contains some bad days. In three months the world will recall for 40 days the betrayal of Christ by one of his ardent followers for 30 pieces of silver. The Son of God will be tortured, humiliated, dragged through the streets and spat upon, kicked like a dog, cursed before he is killed by a soldier’s spear. This was the precious baby whose birth was witnessed during a starry, silent night by a virgin and her carpenter-partner, a few animals in a shabby stable, a host of angels and three kings from the (Middle) East. The man became a preacher and miracle worker, but what he experienced interacting with priests, imperial authorities, fishermen, believers, doubters, and sinners was enough to convince him that 40 days after his resurrection, he had had enough. He returned to heaven. To be born again every year, a baby over and over again, such a darling, tender and lovable as only an infant can be. From the lighting of the first Advent candle to the last of the 12 days of Christmas, earth’s anticipation is the expression of its longing for the rebirth of that innocence, to be in this world but without sin or cynicism, as only a child can be. Psychologists call this transference, or unconsciously transferring to another person one’s fears, feelings, anxiety. That’s what makes children so special at Christmas: to them we have transferred our deepest longings for hope and joy.