Jedan drugačiji Božić

O ovome Božiću nismo tražili toplinu svječica ni puninu stolova.

Tražili smo Njega.

Tražili smo Boga koji se ne rađa u palačama,

nego u hladnoći, u rubovima grada,

u dječjim očima koje su prerano naučile gladovati, bježati i skrivati se.

Djeca ulice.

Bez roditelja. Bez doma. Bez sigurnosti.

Djeca koja spavaju u odvodnim kanalima i šupama,

a u srcu nose tihu molitvu: da ih netko vidi.

I shvatili smo – naš Božić ne može biti Božić bez njih.

Zato smo ih pozvali k sebi.

U naš mali Centar sv. Franje Asiškog.

Jer oni nisu samo siromasi koje treba pomoći.

Oni su Živi Bog koji se rodio pokraj nas.

Na Badnji dan skupljali smo ih po gradu.

Kupili smo im odjeću dostojnu čovjeka.

Okupali su se, uredili, nasmijali –

i tada smo vidjeli čudo:

dijete koje se osjeća voljeno ponovno postaje dijete.

Pripremili smo im sobu.

Još bez kreveta, ali puna nade.

Radost je bila veća od svega što imamo,

a u očima su nam tekle suze –

jer kad primiš dijete, primiš samoga Krista.

Te noći bili su s nama na polnoćki.

Pjevali smo zajedno.

Molili.

Slavili.

Večerali smo skupa i dočekali Božić.

I shvatili – nikada nismo bili bliže jaslama.

Njihovi osmijesi govorili su više od ijedne propovijedi.

U njihovoj prisutnosti Božić je postao stvaran.

Utjelovljen. Živ.

Ostaju s nama.

Oni su naš Betlehem.

Oni su naš Božić.

Oni su naš mali Isus koji se rodio među nama.

Vidjeli smo Ga.

Susreli smo Ga.

Živ je.

——————

Hvala Andelka Čotić, Andrija Džalo, Mihovil Tomasović.

——————

A Different Kind of Christmas

This Christmas, we were not searching for the warmth of lights or the fullness of tables.

We were searching for Him.

We were looking for the God who is not born in palaces,

but in the cold, on the margins of the city,

in the eyes of children who learned too early what hunger, fear, and hiding mean.

Children of the streets.

Without parents. Without a home. Without safety.

Children who sleep in drainage canals and makeshift shelters,

carrying in their hearts a silent prayer: that someone might see them.

And we understood—our Christmas cannot be Christmas without them.

So we invited them to be with us,

in our small Center of St. Francis of Assisi.

Because they are not only the poor whom we help.

They are the Living God born beside us.

On Christmas Eve, we gathered them from the streets.

We bought them clothes worthy of human dignity.

They bathed, dressed, smiled—

and then we witnessed a miracle:

a child who feels loved becomes a child again.

We prepared a room for them.

Still without beds, but filled with hope.

The joy was greater than anything we own,

and tears filled our eyes—

for whoever welcomes a child welcomes Christ Himself.

That night, they were with us at Midnight Mass.

We sang together.

We prayed.

We rejoiced.

We shared a meal and welcomed Christmas together.

And we realized—we had never been closer to the manger.

Their smiles preached more powerfully than any sermon.

In their presence, Christmas became real.

Incarnate. Alive.

They remain with us.

They are our Bethlehem.

They are our Christmas.

They are our little Jesus born among us.

We have seen Him.

We have encountered Him.

He is alive.