A surprise shrill voice halted everyone. Black hair, dark eyes and black lustrous skin were here distinctive features. She had everyone in astonishment, staring at her. The shock was not as a result of the shrill but firm voice she mustered ordering everyone to stop but the personality of the person issuing the command. 

She was fifteen and a notoriously shy girl inveterate for her unseemly behavior.

"Are you okay?" a woman rushed to her holding her hands and caressing her smooth face.

The young lady stood speechless as though she woke from a trance. 

Few minutes ago, her mind wandered strangely while the whole family were busy with the Christmas preparations. 

She sat almost on the verge of an erected concrete stone, deserted at the backyard of the compound.

There was celebration that could be felt from the melodious pounding from the mortars, the rise of thick smoke from the firewood carrying sweet wafts of rice and fried chicken in the air, the clanging of bottles as Uncle Sam with Jenny, her cousin struggled with the crates of Fanta drink. The back door was narrow and it wasn't quite easy for two people to fit in at once. How silly! Laila thought. They shouldn't try to get the drinks in by carrying them vertically.

There was also the loud playing of Christmas carols, the peaceful pandemonium that ensued as the women in the family discussed, as the men loudly greeted 'Merry Christmas!', as the dog barked excitedly and as her mind raced troubled, detached from the celebration ongoing outside the enclosure of her little mind. 

Christmas signalled the birth of love. Only love would make a person agree to be born to save a race and give hope to people who intentionally were liars, thieves... sinners. Christ's destiny was death and he knew about it but he willingly gave himself. But did the people he died for even care? Or they were more concerned about the feasting and jubilation... 

Her brows twitched in agony and confusion.

Her mother the other day almost slapped an insistent beggar in the market; hurling abuses, "Don't touch me, you filthy thing!" before she sent him away.

Was it the rest of her extended family? Ha! She laughed in her mind. They were no better. The gates of the family compound was shut and they chased away beggars and the less privileged. 

The real essence of Christmas had been lost. Christmas wasn't all about self centered egoistic people caring only about themselves. It should be a season of giving and showing love.

What was the purpose of the big bags of rice in the kitchen and cartons of tomato puree? People were starving; left to die, homeless. Nobody cared. People would rather relish the aura of the Christmas season and all their bodies could enjoy.

Christmas had to be saved from a fictitious reality in our minds to a practiceable and purposeful one with people intentional about changing the norm.

"Laila!" her mom screamed. "Mom..." She gasped. 

"Young lady, what is the matter? You've just stood speechless after you screamed" 

"It's nothing", Laila muttered drifting away from her onlooking family members and her surprised mother. She was always the weirdo, did it matter if her strange behavior amplified? 

But Laila, had nursed a plan... to save Christmas... to save everyone's perspective. She waited till dinner.

Everyone sat at the dining table; her mom, dad, uncles, her aunt and cousins. Laila volunteered to raise a toast mid- dinner.

She began;

" Christmas is the season of love. That's the significance of the birth of Christ. If we can't show love to the less privileged, then we shouldn't celebrate Christmas- love".

"Oh..." Jenny said quietly. "Honey, sincerely that was the best toast ever, Laila's dad spoke, we'd visit the orphanage tomorrow. Ask Musa to allow the beggars in. We have enough food to go round... Let's save Christmas! "