Where are the children? What do we have for them?
Even in the midst of war, there are always the children. Especially in wartime, especially at Christmastime — our thoughts turn to them.
Winston Churchill, prime minister of Great Britain during the dark days of World War II, had met with U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt in August 1941 aboard the Prince of Wales to share in a religious service. Churchill spoke movingly of the flags of the two nations intertwined, of the highest military, naval and air officers grouped together along with the ranks of British and American sailors. He spoke of the “deeply moving expression of the unity of faith of our two peoples” (see “Churchill: A Photographic Portrait” by Martin Gilbert).
On the Dec. 8 of that same year, just a few weeks before the holidays, Churchill had learned of Japan’s attack on the United States and America entering into the war. With grateful jubilation he responded, “No American will think it wrong of me if I proclaim that to have the United States at our side was to me the greatest joy. … So we had won after all! … England would live; Britain would live. … We should not be wiped out. Our history would not come to an end” (see “Churchill: A Photographic Portrait”).
Now as the sacred celebration of Christmas approached, Churchill found himself in the United States, far from the island home he loved, far from his own dear family. But this remarkable man was, after all, half American, the blood of the new world mingling in him with the old. Jennie Jerome, a young woman of beauty and charm, came from a prominent socialite family in New York. She and her sisters were largely educated in Paris, and Jennie married Lord Randolph Churchill in 1874, according to her entry at britannica.com. As Winston matured into young manhood, he and his mother became close friends, and he greatly respected her counsel and insights.
So the astute and thoughtful Churchill did not feel entirely homesick or out of place. On Christmas Day, he attended with Roosevelt the Foundry Methodist Church, scarcely a mile from the White House. Here, he heard for the first time “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” which was written by a Philadelphia pastor, Phillips Brooks, after the pastor's visit to the Holy Land some 75 years before.
And the following week, on a New Year’s Day that marked the beginning of yet another year of conflict, death, fear and uncertainty, Churchill attended Christ Episcopal Church in Alexandria, where George Washington, as well as Robert E. Lee, had knelt to worship before the dark clouds of war.
Here, Churchill heard another song that was new to him: “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” — an entirely American song written by Julia Ward Howe in November 1861 in the midst the Civil War.
Churchill was powerfully drawn to this song and requested that it be used in his funeral services in 1965, according to "Christmas with Churchill and FDR" on spectator.org.
As this Christmas Eve of 1941 progressed, Roosevelt addressed the 20,000 people gathered in the twilight and the thousands listening by radio. He then threw the switch to illuminate the hundreds of shining lights on the great national Christmas tree.
Roosevelt spoke of courage, resolution, sacrifice and devotion.
Churchill spoke of purity of intent and integrity of heart when he said: “Ill would it be for us this Christmastide if we were not sure than no greed for the land or wealth of any other people, no vulgar ambition, no morbid lust for material gain at the expense of others, had led us to the field.”
Churchill spoke of the children. Pushing aside the “war, raging and roaring over all the lands and seas,” he encouraged: “Therefore, we may cast aside for this one night at least the cares and dangers which beset us, and make for the children an evening of happiness in a world of storm. Here, then, for one night only, each home throughout the English-speaking world should be a brightly lighted island of happiness and peace” (see “In the Dark Streets Shineth” by David McCullough).
As always, and more powerfully than ever, the children of Britain and the United States carried the future in their strong little bodies and their clear, eager minds. But even beyond that, they were children who deserved their portion of sweet, untainted childhood before their lives were claimed by the exacting demands of the world.
And that beauty, purity and promise of childhood was the tonic, the deep impetus that weary men and women needed to re-dedicate their efforts — their hearts and their faith — to the almost overwhelming work at hand.
With his incredible understanding of the depth and height of all things — with his unique, powerful gifts of expression — Churchill concluded, as quoted in “In the Dark Streets Shineth”: “Let us grown-ups share to the full in their unstinted pleasures before we turn again to the stern task and the formidable years that lie before us, resolved that, by our sacrifice and daring, these same children shall not be robbed of their inheritance or denied their right to live in a free and decent world.
"And so, in God’s mercy, a happy Christmas to you all.”
Susan Evans McCloud is author of more than 40 books and has published screenplays, a book of poetry and lyrics, including two songs in the LDS hymnbook. She has six children. She blogs at susanevansmccloud.blogspot.com. Email: susasays@broadweave.net