It was a tiny little town with thatched roofs, a quiet, but friendly people, and a glow and sparkle to every edge and part of the town. For as long as anyone could remember, even the thatched roofs, gardens and horses have had a glow and glitter to them. This was part of what made Tinselina a happy town and it was a source of pride among the Tinselites.

If you were to walk through town, you'd walk past neat and tidy little houses, a clean and brightly adorned town hall, sparkling little churches and you might even rattle a stick along picket fences that seem to be painted with a brighter shade of white.

But one day, inexplicably, the sparkle started to go away. The mailman, Sandy Crisper noticed it first. Before that day was out the sparkle was disappearing all over town. Even the lights seemed to be a shade dimmer that night.

That Sunday the pastor at the Little Church of the Light espoused one theory about what was happening and soon the topic was a point of discussion on every street corner. Even the little newspaper, which only runs short stories, printed an editorial about this alarming phenomenon. The whole town is abuzz. What is happening? The Tinselites were clearly troubled.

The debate about what caused the dimming raged among the townspeople, much like between Job and his friends. Maybe it's this, maybe it's that. Maybe we've done this, maybe we haven't done that.

But one thing was very clear, Tinselina was losing its joy.

The following Saturday, during market day, exactly 10 days since Sandy Crisper first spotted the change, a tiny little girl named Belinda is standing with her parents in their market stall selling cheese and dairy products. Belinda has been thinking about the topic everyone is discussing and as several people push close to offer cash for their purchases, she offers a small observation. "We've always just looked after ourselves," she says, almost to herself, "and we've never really worried about anyone else. Tinselina has been a sparkly place and we take pride in it and try to keep things polished and bright. But everywhere in the world isn't like Tinselina. Well, just look at Stumpville."

It was true. The neighboring village of Stumpville hadn't seen a bright day in years. Several decades before, logging crews had reduced the beautiful forest around the cluster of homes and farms to hillsides of stumps, prompting the name for the little town. The people there had endured several years of bad crops, a bad sickness came through a few years ago, and what little prosperity the area had once boasted was long gone. Now the people didn't whistle while they worked, they just labored without joy.

"Hmm," the Tinselites within earshot of Belinda agreed that bad times had fallen on Stumpville, while life in their own town had been pretty bright, "but what can we do?" asked several people. "We're just little people. What could we do?"

By now the market crowd had gathered around the stall and Belinda's little voice gained volume as she answered loudly, "I don't know, but we can do something." And that got it started. Almost like electricity the idea crackled through town and the townspeople were soon energized by the very idea that they could do something with whatever they had.

"Wouldn't it be great if we had a party?" "We could paint their houses." "I could use an extra helper around the store." "I've got an extra plow horse that hasn't had much to do this last year." And on it went. Within days, the Tinselites had fashioned a plan to brighten up Stumpville.

And so, on one Saturday night in early December, a line of small horse-drawn hay wagons and carts rolled out of Tinselina for the short ride to the next town.

It was cold and crisp. The stars were shiny bright, the moon casting a silvery glow over the landscape. It was just the perfect scene to remind Tinselites of the beauty of light.

On the edge of a darkened and gloomy Stumpville a few Tinselites started to question the plan.

"Maybe they won't like what we're doing." "Maybe they like things the way they are." "Maybe light isn't all it's cracked up to be."

But fortunately, it was too late to stop, and momentum carried them onward.

As the first carts and wagons rolled into the dark and quiet Stumpville, faces of children quickly appeared at doors of the little houses, peering out with wide eyes to see what was happening. Soon, even the adults were peeking over the children's heads and then stepping outside to watch the little parade pass by into town.

Once in the center of town, the Tinselina wagons stopped, and people hopped off and spread out. In moments, they were knocking on the doors of the houses in the village or greeting those families who were already standing outside.

All over town, as doors were gingerly opened or Stumpville families tentatively greeted the approaching strangers, the Tinselite ladies would hand over plates of freshly baked cupcakes, all covered with glitter. The Tinselite children had small gifts in their hands, wrapped in shiny foil with sparkling ribbons and glittering bows, which they shyly handed over to the children of each Stumpville house.

While this was going on, the Tinselite men were taking the Stumpville men to the wagons and pointing to strings of small electrical lights. Within an hour, all over town, the men of both villages were up on wooden ladders, stringing lights on the houses, amid cries of "well done" and "a little over here" while children ran from group to group delivering steaming mugs of hot chocolate. The sound of laughter could be heard all over town and if you happened to be silently passing over that small town at rooftop level that night it would have almost sounded like the tinkling of a thousand tiny wind chimes.

Before long, people were shouting "plug it in" or "let's try it" and one by one, the houses in the little hamlet of Stumpville came to life. It was a wonderful sight. What had been dark and cold and unhappy was now transformed into a village of light. Still carrying their hot chocolate, the people from both villages wandered together through the little lanes of the town oohing and aahing at the lights and decorations, and admiring what they had done together.

Somehow everyone ended up in the village square and there they stood, with horses, wagons, carts, men, women and children not knowing what to do but knowing that this was the right place to be.

The history books of the area record that it was Belinda's voice that was the first one to be heard. As the horses exhaled long puffs of steam in the cold air, and a light dusting of snow began to fall, Belinda's little voice could be heard singing "Silent Night." By the time she hit the word "night" for the second time, everyone was singing and by the third verse the square was in full song, "silent night, holy night. Son of God, love's pure light, radiant beams from thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace. Jesus lord at thy birth. Jesus lord at thy birth."

The small towns of Stumpville and Tinselina were indelibly changed on that night early in December.

Stumpville people will tell you that on that night a decade ago when their neighbors came and brought light to their town, they got hope. Several years later they changed the name of their now prospering city to BrightForest and today, well, it's a beacon of light for the entire area.

The townsfolk of Tinselina say that on the night when they returned to their own village, they all drew in their breath as their little town first came into view in the distance, and they could see that it was shining more brightly than before.

With each passing minute, Tinselina seemed to get even brighter and by the time the wagons and carts entered town it was if the town was light itself. Everywhere they looked it twinkled and glimmered, even the glass of the windows without lights on inside reflected the sparkle around them. Tinselina’s joy was back.

You see, it was the words of "Silent Night" that described what had happened here.

"Son of God, love's pure light, radiant beams from thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace."

Because no matter how small or inadequate you feel, God has put a light in your life as a result of his son Jesus Christ, born in a small town under a bright star, to bring light into the world.

Thanks to the townspeople of Tinselina we have the tradition of stringing Christmas lights outside of our homes and shining through our windows. And, if little Belinda were still around, she'd tell you to take your Christmas lights off of their automatic timers. Then each night of this busy, busy season stop for just a minute to plug in your Christmas lights and remember that God's light becomes brighter when you share it with others.

By the way, in case you're wondering where our word "tinsel" came from, well, that's another story.