Scenes of Prison
33. Christmas Sermon for Prisoners
T hanksgiving comes and goes quickly. Wednesday is a workday, and there’s a big meal at noon on Thanksgiving. By evening, it's over, finished in a single day. Friday begins a long weekend, and by the following Monday, Thanksgiving has been forgotten.
But Christmas is different. Christmas is a season.
As Christmas approaches, inmate spirits begin to sink. Management and office staff, who work eight-to-five daily schedules Monday through Friday, will be home with their families on Christmas Day. In the days before Christmas, these staff will bring in treats and host Christmas parties for groups of inmates and staff, and their Christmas cheer and well-wishing for the inmates is genuine. But when Christmas Day actually arrives, these people are all missing. Meanwhile, the family gatherings and holiday dinners inmates will not be attending really do occur in communities all over the country on Christmas day.
For those of us who worked on Christmas Day, there was extra pay, and my family needed the money, so I was always at the prison on Christmas. “It was just another day," I insisted to anyone who wanted to listen. Indeed, since I was there and recognized the low spirits of the people around me, I developed a special Christmas sermon that I refined and delivered many times to listening inmates throughout the years. I delivered the sermon both as Christmas approached but especially on the actual day to anyone who slowed down long enough for me to start a conversation. If they listened long enough, they’d hear the whole thing.
“You know,” I’d begin, “inmates are lucky to be locked up on Christmas Day.” This beginning always captured the attention of inmates who were shocked by my statement.
“Surprised? Disbelieving? Well, consider the alternative,” I said. “What if you were there? What if you did attend Christmas family gatherings at home?
At this point, I would employ my wild imagination to paint in their minds a vivid scene of their families in familiar surroundings where a Christmas gathering would be taking place. The scenes I created would involve incidents they could expect to occur and relatives they’d be sure to encounter.
I created disapproving aunts. Cousins who would shun them. Siblings who would lecture them about the misery they had caused dear old mom. A father whose stern gaze suffocated them and made them want to flee. A brother-in-law who would order them to leave. I described how they would drink too much, yell, fight, swear, call people names, threaten people, make women cry, and break things. I created and described one disaster after another that would make this Christmas memorable for all the wrong reasons. The scenes I described were believable, humorous, and genuinely awful, and I only paused my descriptions when I could see that my audience was laughing and ruefully nodding their heads in quiet recognition. They recognized these scenes. They’ve been there and done that, and they had to agree that I did have a point.
“Now, on the contrary,” I would begin after a pause to refocus attention, “Since you’re not there, everyone is missing you, and they're remembering all your fine qualities, and they’re looking forward to your eventual release. Instead of a miserable, disappointing Christmas that’s all your fault, you can relax here and write or call your people and tell them how much you regret missing the gathering. They’ll regret it, too. They’ll say nice things to you and about you after you’ve hung up, and everyone can carry on and enjoy the day. It will have been a good Christmas for them and a good Christmas for you, too, because you weren't there.”
Typically, inmates were amused by my Christmas sermon, and they didn’t disagree with it. One thing for sure, it helped them keep their spirits up through another dreadful Christmas Day. How many more Christmases would they have to spend locked up? Well, at least it was one less now, and I was able to help them get through it.
Discussion
- The author felt a responsibility to help the prisoners manage their moods. Do you feel a similar responsibility for the people in your life?
- Are you able to tell humorous stories that get other people laughing? Perhaps it is a skill you can develop.
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