The Christmas Wish

The snow is falling lightly this Advent season as Christmas is approaching. Little Kelly tried out for the Christmas pageant, but did not make the cut because only girls could try out for the ballerina.

He is heartsick.

He prayed night after night to Jesus for one
Christmas wish.

Kelly hoped that if he told Father Timster in confession  and have mercy on him this Christmas Day.

Thursday is always confession day. As the class lines up and walks inside the church, all decorated for Christmas Day with beautiful white candles and fir trees, and the the manger scene is almost complete for each day of Advent a new figure is brought into the manger.


As Kelly walks toward the confessional, his heart pounds.

He has been a bad boy.

He lowers his head and prays that Jesus will understand.

Second in line his heart races, hands sweaty, and mind racing for some venial sin he can confess, knowing Father Timster will probably give him a couple of rosaries to say.

Kelly gulps.

His turn approaches.



The silence is deafening and then Father Timster opens the screen, Kelly can only see a shadow and starts to say the confessional prayer

"Bless me Father, ...it has been
7 days since my last confession..."

"Tell me, what are you sins?", Father Timster says.

"Well, I feel I don't sin at all. I wanted to know if I can ask  for something. Is that okay, Father Timster?"

"Ummmm, well, this isn't a mail order house or Santa at the mall, young man, this is a confessional. Just tell me
what is on your mind, and maybe I can help. I am not Jesus,
just his messenger.", Father Timster whispers.

Kelly starts to sweat and the words are harder
than he thinks.

"Okay, Father. Here goes. I want to be a ballerina? I went to the mall and saw some beautiful ballerina shoes and I want a tutu that matches. Can Jesus make me a dancer?? Please! I want to leap and spin!."

Kelly starts to cry.

"Okay, son, who put you up to this? Is this some classroom prank?
I will tell your teacher!! Why are you crying. This is not funny!"

"I am serious, Father. It is no joke. I love to dance. I watch
the ballet all the time. I want some red shoes and I want to spin
and leap and prance."

" Don't fight nature, son. You are just a little boy of ten. When you are older, trust me you will be happy to be a man and your silly dream of being a woman will just be a dream. Remember there are no mistakes. You are a boy for a reason. "

"Father Timster. I don't want to be a woman, I just want to have a pair of red ballerina shoes under my Christmas tree and I want a part in the Christmas Pageant. It will probably be too late, but why can't I dance in the pageant? It's not fair!"

"Because only girls can wear red ballerina shoes, Little Kelly. You must accept that and perhaps try out for another part. How about being a shepard?"

"Boring! I want to be a ballerina. I want the red ballerina shoes. End of discussion. "

"Oh, really. Then why are you in here asking for
guidance when you already made up your mind?"

"I don't really know."




"Well, Father Timster, can you still ask Jesus to put some red ballet shoes under my Christmas tree. I want to be a dancer. I am a ballerina. Don't you think so, Father Timster?


"Little boy, you are so very young. You don't know who you are.You are confused and mesmerized by the ballerinas you see on tv.  You can't go asking Jesus to make you into a woman like it is sitting on Santa's lap and asking him to change you into something like a magician. Even if you were a ballerina, would you be happy? I doubt it, because next week, you would want to be an astronaut!! That is how little boys are! Fickle! I should know..."


"Oh, please Father Timster, please ask Jesus to make me a ballerina, or at least send me the red dancing shoes. I want to dance, I want to spin, I want to be in the Christmas pageant and I want to wear red ballerina shoes!!

"I can't help you, little boy. That's be five rosaries to make you think. I bless you and absolve this ridiculous thinking you have. Now stop trying to be a girl and accept that you are a boy! Now Merry Christmas and ask Jesus to help you love yourself. No red shoes for you. Just maybe some video games!"

"You don't understand, Father Timster.", Kelly weeps.

"Nobody understands my heart, I was praying that Jesus would understand and love me for who I am and help me be a ballerina."

"No way. Jesus wants you to be yourself as you are now. Merry Christmas, Little Kelly


That Christmas morning, little Kelly opened his presents and what do you know...

"Thank you Jesus, I knew you would find the red ballerina shoes. Now how about a red tutu to match!"