For Christmas
It’s always possible for the age-old Christmas story to hit home time and again, no matter how far you are from friends and family, says Riana Scheepers.
iIt happened last year. Ters and Lien’s children are all grown up and out of the house and they told their parents they would not be coming home for Christmas. That’s okay, Ters told them. And to Lien he said, “Don’t for one minute think we’re going to stay at home like two lonely old souls.” “Where are we going?” asked Lien. “Don’t ask me,” said Ters. “Let’s just hit the road and see where we end up. As long as it’s somewhere where there are no people and no hustle and bustle. No bright lights and things.”
Lien was not very impressed with this plan. “Then we’ll have to go to the desert. It’s the only place without people and things.”
A day or two before Christmas, off they went. Without a plan or direction in mind. Lien was still not happy, but she went along with her husband’s whim.
They drove to Lichtenburg, stayed overnight and continued the following day to Vryburg. There someone told them about the lovely road to Van Zylsrus. It’s only a farm track, said the man, but it’s beautiful.
Ters and Lien set off on the farm track, but somewhere between the farm gates and turns they got terribly lost, with not a clue as to where they were. However, they were surrounded by beautiful thorn trees in full bloom, browsing kudu and even a herd of gemsbok crossing their path. As the sun began to set on Christmas Eve, they found themselves in the middle of nowhere, not a town nor guesthouse in sight.
They stopped to watch the sun dip below the horizon. Lost they might have been, yet a deep sense of tranquillity had descended over them.
“It’s so beautiful here,” said Lien, enfolded in her husband’s arms. “Let’s pitch the tent and sleep right here.” They stood like that for quite a while, Lien’s head on Ters’s chest, completely at peace with the world. And then they heard something, a jingling sound. “What’s that?” asked Lien. Before Ters could reply, they saw it: a donkey cart coming through the veld towards them. It stopped alongside them.
“I told my wife I had heard something out here in the veld,” said the man on the cart.
“Come, good folk like you can’t sleep out here in the open. My wife has already prepared your room.”
Ters and Lien protested, but it was clear this man was not going to take no for an answer. “Can I ride with Oom in the cart?” asked Lien. “Certainly. Wait, let me help you up.” Ters drove the car and Lien rode on the cart. She waved happily to Ters, as content as could be.
When they arrived at Oom Hennerik’s house, Auntie Saar was already waiting on the stoep. “Welcome,” she said, leading Ters and Lien to their room, freshly made up and sparkling clean.
From the kitchen came the smell of delicious food. The table was set for four.
“How did Tannie get everything ready so quickly?” Ters asked Oom Hennerik.
“Well, sir, we knew you were coming! My wife started preparing a week ago already.” The couple must have seen the disbelief on Ters and Lien’s faces. “The good Lord sends us people every year. He has not yet missed a year.”
Their story unfolded – and if the aunty stopped to take a breath, the uncle would take up the tale. Oom Hennerik and Auntie Saar are descendants of the Griquas. Their children weren’t fond of that part of the world and decided to move to the city 15 years ago. Oom Hennerik recalled: “Just before the first Christmas after the children left, I said to my wife: ‘Ma, I don’t want to celebrate Christmas this year. It’s just the two of us and I’m still too sad and my heart will just ache even more on those special days. What are we going to do?’
“And she replied: ‘Hennerik, don’t let that keep you awake at night. I have already asked our Heavenly Father to send us people for Christmas. Tomorrow I’ll be getting the spare room ready and you’d better lend a hand.’ ”
And so it was: for 15 years, every year on Christmas Eve, people would arrive on their doorstep. Like clockwork. “We have only one request,” said Oom Hennerik. “Yes?” asked Ters. “Would you please read to us from the Bible. Neither I nor my wife have ever learnt to read.” That night Ters read the Christmas story from a very old Bible. And it was as if he was hearing it for the very first time – really hearing the Message.