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He hadn’t given permission. I mean that didn’t matter now, because Charles was gone. But it was another way Henry Longfellow felt control over his life slowly slipping away. It was just two years after his wife had died in a fire, a horrible accident Longfellow couldn’t stop. Then his son, without permission, had packed up and left to join the Union Army. It had him searching for any bit of news, any word about his son’s battalion. And when the first word came, the reports claimed that Charles was dead. But Longfellow refused to believe it, even now as the Christmas bells rang.

As much as he struggled right now to see the good in things, he wouldn’t take the word of someone, who heard from someone else about his son’s life. This was, after all, 1863, a time with little except a telegraph and a print paper to report of battles that happened days, if not weeks before. One day, a man might be reported as killed in action, only to be spotted in a hospital later on. If there was a chance, Longfellow was determined to hold on to it. 

A glimpse of hope

When he learned his son had indeed survived the latest battle, doctors just had to step in and try to ruin the moment. Some claimed the boy might not survive more than a few days. Others said he would surely be paralyzed and yet more said if he did make it, there was a long road to recovery ahead. You’d think it would be enough to drive someone mad. And yet Longfellow, happy in the knowledge that his son still lived, went for a walk, turning his thoughts into what would eventually be a poem and later a song. We hear those words every year now, transformed into the carol “I Heard The Bells On Christmas Day”

You can hear the voice of the frustrated father, the widowed husband searching for meaning as he walked along the streets. “And in despair I bowed my head, ‘there is no peace on earth,’ I said. For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good-will to men.” But something as simple as the ringing of the bells on Christmas Day made him reconsider. 

Ringing of the Christmas bells

It’s something I grew up with, the ringing of the bells during candlelight Christmas Eve services at Kings Creek Baptist Church. One person was selected each year to ring four times before midnight on Christmas Eve. Once to remember what’s come before in this year. Then once  for the things left undone and unsaid. Once for joy, to celebrate the birth of Jesus. And once for hope, both in the Savior’s birth and the new year yet to come. That’s what Longfellow focused on during that Christmas Day in 1863, a newly discovered hope. 

The Civil War hadn’t ended. In fact, it would be several more months before that happened. But his son Charles was alive, recovering from his wounds. And so, he gave thanks for what he had. It might not be what he wanted, but Longfellow found hope that “Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: God is not dead, nor doth He sleep. The Wrong shall fail, The Right prevail, with peace on earth, good-will to men.”

Hope is still here 

It’s something that can be equally hard for us today as it was in 1863. This has been a hard year for many people in a number of ways. I mentioned growing up in the mountains of North Carolina. Now many of the roads into those communities no longer exist, with homes destroyed and supplies desperately needed after Hurricane Helene. We’ve had to write several sad stories about people and groups here in Farmville and the surrounding area in need, looking for more than their families can provide. There has been sickness, death and a parting of the ways in many different cases. It’s easy to get down and depressed in these situations. It’s hard to hear a message in the Christmas bells or at any time. 

But there is a flip side to that coin. For every story about need, we’ve been able to share about people in this community who reached out and said don’t worry, we’re here to help. I can’t count the number of individuals, of groups who loaded up trailers, trucks, cars or whatever they had and made their way to the North Carolina mountains. I’ve seen people here lose their homes, their clothes and everything, then be greeted with a hug and boxes of material to replace what was lost.

Christmas bells still ring out, across the world

I’ve seen people volunteer and pay for meals for others they didn’t know, call up and check in on folks. My mom had heart surgery this year and it wasn’t even an hour later that I’m getting text messages from folks here, asking how she’s doing and offering prayers. The majority of my family lives up in the mountains where Helene ran through and people who don’t know them from Adam reached out to ask if they were ok and if they could help. In all these times, you can see the hope, the caring and compassion, along with the promise of a brighter future. 

Yes, there are problems we all deal with. There’s a lot going on and plenty to be concerned about. But the bells still ring. And our friends and neighbors are still there, offering a helping hand to get through this season. We have our lives. We have our families. And if we listen hard enough, we have hope on this Christmas Day.