I've been writing. And no, I'm not a writer. But it's been a fun process. Here goes...
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A child sat on a bench on the corner of a busy street waiting for her mom who was busy in one of the shops. She was tired of walking down the sidewalk, going into a store, getting too hot, taking off her layers, only to have to put them all on again a few minutes later. So she waited. Beside her was a kind looking gentleman. Considerably older than she - although she didn't know why she knew that. His face was without wrinkles, his hair held no grey. But his eyes. His eyes, even though they sparkled with generosity and kindness, his eyes she knew - were old.

They had greeted one another when the child had parked herself beside him, but now he turned to her and stared straight into her eyes. "Can you hear it?" he asked. "What? What do you hear?" the little girl asked looking around. She listened intently, concentrating to hear anything unusual. "Shhh. Listen." the man commanded. She listened. Quietly. She sat so still, with her eyes closed that you would have thought she'd fallen asleep. She heard people talking, some to each other, and some on their phones. She heard the cars drive by. She even heard the jingle of the bells on the store doors so that they would know if someone entered their shop. Occasionally she heard a Christmas carol or a dog bark but really, that was it. Nothing out of the ordinary and somehow she just knew that the sound this man was asking her about was special. And she heard nothing.

"No. I'm sorry sir, I don't hear anything." she finally answered. The man smiled, sort of. It was more a smile on one side and a frown on the other. He looked sad. Taking a deep breath, he looked at her again. "What do you see in my eyes?" he asked gently. The little girl leaned in close and stared. She looked unblinking into the deep, dark, old eyes of her bench companion. And she saw. Her eyes widened and she couldn't move. She could barely breath. She stared as hard as she could wishing the moment could last forever. Then blinking she turned away. Neither of them spoke for a long, long time. "I've never seen anything like that before." she said slowly. "Never. It was beautiful, it was sad, it wa...it was important wasn't it?" she finally asked turning to her friend. Now he smiled. "Nothing was ever so important. Now listen again" he said. Obediently she closed her eyes and listened. "Hmmm....well, I hear noise. Ummm... some carolers, some laughing, people talking - just the regular noise" she muttered disappointedly shrugging her shoulders. "Listen again" the man said softly. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. All at once the sounds flew at her - her mouth dropped, her eyes flew open and she whirled around to face the man. "There's more!" she cried. The man just smiled. "What do you hear?" She was talking quickly, trying to get all her words out at once. "I hear crying, oh, someone crying really hard, like their heart is breaking, I hear lonliness - at least I think it's lonliness. It feels like it is. And pain. I don't want to hear that. I think maybe its hunger and cold... " she clasped her hand over her heart. "What am I hearing?" she asked dazedly. The man moved a little closer to his young friend and whispered "What you hear, is what lies just beneath. You are hearing the true hearts of all the people passing us by. But there is one more sound you must listen for." The young girl strained to listen. And as she and the old man sat quietly on the bench, a smile slowly spread across her face. "Oh." was all she could choke out.

"What do you hear?" the man prodded. She turned to face him, tears streaming out of her eyes. "I hear 'joy to the world' - not the song - more like true joy....I'm not sure how I know that, but it's stronger and louder than anything else. It's... a baby? It..it's...I don't know what it is - wait, yes I do, it's a baby crying!" She covered her mouth with her hand. "It's Him isn't it? It's Jesus, the baby. I saw Him in your eyes. But I saw more than that. I saw Him being born with a bunch of animals, and I saw Him laughing and playing and I saw Him taking care of people and I even saw Him dying... " her words trailed off.

"I don't understand" she finally said. The man stretched out and sighed. "That's okay. Not many do. But once you hear that cry....well, now that YOU have heard that cry - you're different, aren't you." It wasn't really a question, more a statement of truth. "Now you see and hear what makes Christmas really something to celebrate. Now you understand that it all started with that cry - and the world will never be the same because of it."

The little girl sat quietly and thought about the strange words. "So," she said, "now that I have heard the cry of Jesus, I need to help others hear?" As she spoke she shifted to face the stranger but as she did, she realized she was alone. Before she could even understand what had happened, her mother called out to her that it was time to go.

But she never forgot the man or what she saw in his eyes that day, and in her own way, she worked hard at helping people hear more than the hustle and bustle around them. She helped people try to hear the hearts speaking beneath the surface and most importantly to hear the soft cry of the new babe found in a manger all those years ago.

And she herself, she never stopped listening.