A Christmas Present
For Ebenezer Scrooge, Christmas had become a season that
brought the lowest of spirits to him. The sight of streets filled with
the poor and the lame, the lost and the helpless were visions that scarred his
heart and soul and haunted him.
Yet, for those with plenty, this was time of joy as they
could celebrate the Lord’s humble birth with excess and self-congratulation.
Ebenezer struggled with their greed and self importance in their honouring the
little prophet.
As Scrooge carried out his ablutions on Christmas Eve he
stared into the mirror and offered a prayer that at some point in the future
Christmas would be celebrated with a true spirit. A hope that this season could
truly mark the point in the calendar where those with fortune and power would
reach out a caring and generous arm to those who suffer. A prayer that the
increasing gap between rich and poor could be bridged.
As Scrooge lay his head upon his chilled pillow he heard the
first toll of the church bell sound midnight. Even with closed eyes he was
aware of a blinding light filling his room. With trepidation he opened one eye
and saw a massive spectre beckoning him with outstretched bony finger. Scrooge
pulled back his threadbare sheets and stood before the ghostly
manifestation.
Although he did not speak it was as if Scrooge could hear
the very thoughts of the dark spirit. “You have prayed for a future where man
cares for man, where those with fortune and power will reach out a caring
and generous arm to those who suffer. Come with me I will show you what this
season will
become.”
“Spirit,” spoke Scrooge, “Should you not take me back to the
past then show me the present before this vision of what is to come?”
“Whatever gave you that idea? Open your eyes to the future”.
Scrooge opened his eyes and saw scenes of hunger, war,
sickness and poverty. “Why does this still happen Spirit? Is the world
poorer”.
“No,” said the Spirit. “There is more wealth than ever, more
cures for illness....”
“Then why does this still happen?” screamed Scrooge.
“Because those with greed in their hearts need war to sell
weapons, they need illness to sell medicines, there is little profit to be
found in peace and health.”
“The little prophet,” thought Scrooge as he was whisked to
another scene.
Here was another room unlike any he had seen before. Here
was a small window occupied by midgets who were singing badly with large
‘X’s above the heads. Yet no one could see or hear them as they were staring at a small child who was screaming like a banshee whilst throwing
coloured paper and other objects around the room.
“What is wrong with him Spirit? What pains him so much? Can
no one do anything?”
The Spirit uncurled the fingers of one hand to reveal a
small gold tube. “He cries for this.”
“If this is medicine give it to him now for I cannot stand
to see this family’s pain for one moment longer.”
“This is not medicine but energy. In the future man creates
enormous power in these small things. It is called a battery.
“But if this has such power why is there still such
hardship?”
“Because this power and invention is used to run games, toys and
entertainment to stop people having to think how others may suffer.”
Scrooge found his voice cracking as he spoke. “So things do
not get better they get worse. I cannot ignore the needs of the poor and
the hungry. You must have shown me this so I can change things. You must take
me back so I can start the change.
“You must remember what you have seen is just a vision of
what could be. This ‘battery’ is a future. The present is not included.”
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