Angels Kept Their Watch
Deep Dives
Explore related topics with these Wikipedia articles, rewritten for enjoyable reading:
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Anointing of the sick
14 min read
The article describes a priesthood blessing with anointing oil for the father in the ICU - this sacramental practice has deep theological and historical roots across Christian traditions that would enrich understanding of the ritual moment
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O Holy Night
10 min read
The article quotes this Christmas hymn at a pivotal emotional moment - the song has a fascinating origin story involving a French wine merchant poet, a controversial composer, and initial rejection by the Catholic Church
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Relief Society
13 min read
The 'Relief Society sisters' who prepared the Christmas dinner represent one of the oldest and largest women's organizations in the world, founded in 1842 - understanding its structure and mission illuminates the community support system described
Merry-making with my young family in Atlanta screeched to a halt when I received an urgent phone call from my mother in Utah. It was no glad tiding. My father had undergone extensive emergency open-heart surgery and was in a coma in the ICU.
All the sparkle of the holiday drained away as I fretted about my father’s condition. I felt helpless, far away, unable to feel any joyful anticipation of the season. So I boarded a plane and headed west to be with my mom and sit by dad’s bedside to wait for him to wake up. It was jarring to see him lying in the bed, breathing through a tube inserted into his throat. Over the next few days, all my siblings trickled in, one by one. We feared that we had already spent our last Christmas with him.
Members from the ward arrived, and the brothers gathered on either side of my father’s bed to anoint him with oil and give him a priesthood blessing. My brother, who had long since distanced himself from the Church, desperately wanted to join the circle even though he knew that he could not place his hands on my father’s head with them. Wordlessly, he took a place at the foot of the bed, knelt down on the hard floor, and gently laid the blankets aside. He placed his hands upon my father’s bare feet and bowed his head to join the mighty prayer of his heart with the elders’ blessing. After the blessing was affirmed with amens, my brother said, “I hope that God heard my prayer, too.”
Our petitions were answered when Dad woke up a few days before Christmas and began the long process of recovery. My brother told him then, “I knew I wasn’t worthy to put my hands on your head, Dad, so I put my hands on your feet instead and prayed with everything I had.” Dad took his hand and said, “Son, that’s the prayer that counted.”
On Christmas Eve, we carried in a small, lighted evergreen tree that softened the austerity of his hospital room. The smaller grandchildren gently piled upon his bed while the rest of us gathered round and joined our hands in a prayer of thanksgiving for the return of our dad to consciousness. We played Christmas music on a portable stereo and sang together,
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