White Christmas

Growing up I thought White Christmas was a movie about needing snow in Hollywood for Christmas.  Last year some friends of ours invited us to watch it on Christmas Eve with their family.  The show opens up with a scene of an Army unit in Europe, 1944, saying farewell to their commander on Christmas Eve.


The movie opens with a scene where the commander got to say goodbye and pass along a few words to his unit.  External stressors often bring people together.  And so the military is a great environment for building camaraderie.  Those farewells are difficult.

At the end of World War II I imagine there were a lot of feelings about those whom they served with.  There are several people on my list of those whom I served with who, if they called, I’d drop everything to go take care of them.

Essentially that’s the story of White Christmas.  It’s not the story of a holiday made better by some providence of weather.  It’s a story about Army buddies taking care of other Army buddies.  It’s about being the force to be a miracle for when one of them has a tough time after coming home.

A critic at the time complimented the movie for the vibrant colors enabled by the Vistavision technology, but said that it’s a shame the content on the screen wasn’t similarly vibrant.  Despite the comment, the movie did well at the box office.  The movie does well with me.

On Sunday I wrote about my new favorite Christmas song and how it reminds me of the Christmases where I had very, very little.  Yesterday I wrote about how I make bread as a way to share the wonderful blessings I have been given.  There’s something wonderful about White Christmas.  It may not be in the music.  It may not be in the acting.  It may not be in the dance numbers—though I don’t have a problem with any of those things in the movie.  What’s wonderful about it is the way it tells the story of those whom you care about.

We know from the atonement that the Savior cares for each one of us, and just as the characters in movie work to pull off a miracle for someone they care about, the Savior works behind the scenes pull off the miracles that allow us to return to our heavenly home where we’ll be able to see Him–dressed in white.

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