"God setteth the solitary in families" (Ps. 68:6). I was very familiar with that Bible verse, and had on occasion quoted it in an effort to help and comfort others. It had always reassured me that God's love embraces everyone and is shown in practical ways.

But as the holidays approached one year, I found myself thinking, I sure hope the Psalmist doesn't turn out to be wrong this time! With my father's passing, I was pretty much on my own; there were a few relatives, but none with whom I was close or had much in common. I had to admit I dreaded the prospect of being alone. A few of the popular Christmas tunes—featuring words about feeling "blue" or coming home to a warm family setting "only in my dreams"—didn't help very much. After an afternoon at the mercy of mall music, I was sure that if I heard either of them one more time, I'd scream.

I had always been a big fan of Christmas traditions, and one day I asked myself a very pointed question: what, exactly, was it that I loved so much about this special holiday? On one level, the answer was easy. I loved the colored lights and tinsel. And there were still plenty of both to enjoy, in my home and around the neighborhood. I loved the goodies, especially frosted sugar cookies. And I could still bake and share them with friends. I loved the crèche whose appearance had, since I was a tiny child, marked the beginning of the holiday season. And there was still the perfect spot for it on my mantle. I loved the sense of giving. And I still had many friends to surprise with just the perfect gift. So, I reasoned with myself, although a great many things about my life had changed, not that much had changed about Christmas.

All of that logic was well and good. It helped to lift my spirits—for a while, at least. But I needed something deeper and more substantial to answer the question I was asking myself. In my heart I knew that what I really loved about Christmas was the story of the first Christmas, the story of the birth of Christ Jesus in Bethlehem. Above all else, that story had not changed one iota. Nor had the reality of the presence of the Christ and its blessed influence in my life. These were a rock upon which I had withstood many storms over the years, including some during the preceding months when my dad was in a nursing home. No wave of human events could ever wash away this rock to shifting sand—for, as the book of Hebrews declares, "Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever" (Heb. 13:8).

Everyone, whether in very straitened or very privileged circumstances, is the beneficiary of the healing ministry of Jesus, who two thousand years ago broke the dream of sickness, sin, and death. That ministry exemplifies the gift of love that God gives to all mankind. In reality, that love is the ultimate Christmas gift.

It was this more spiritual line of reasoning that led me to an insight I have continued to find helpful long after the holidays were over: it's not so much what one is given that matters; it's what one accepts. I know that God is my Father-Mother, and that He gives me His love, grace, and purity to reflect. As the reflection of infinite Mind, I have unlimited intelligence. As the reflection of infinite Spirit, I have boundless energy and strength. As the reflection of infinite Soul, I have radiant beauty and holiness for my very own. But only as I accept them! And Jesus has provided the example of exactly how to do so.

At that moment I determined to open my eyes to appreciate and claim what God is giving me, instead of believing my experience was limited by the absence of family or in any other way. This insight stayed with me during that holiday season, shifting the ground of my thought from a human to a spiritual perspective. Never again did dread find a place in my thinking for long. The days before Christmas were filled with productive activity.

When Christmas morning came, I didn't let the day just wash over me; I had a spiritual study plan all prepared. I set aside several hours to sit in a sunny window, quietly reading the Christmas narrative from the Gospels, as well as the Bible Lesson (from the Christian Science Quarterly). It was different from the tree-side extravaganza I had experienced before—but different doesn't mean worse! This was peaceful, beautiful, and actually a lot more in keeping with the genuine meaning of Christmas.

Here's how I thought about that time: it was my opportunity to unwrap the gift of God's love that my Father-Mother was giving me, to claim it as my own, to reflect it, to delight in it—just as one might delight in the warmth and beauty of a new Christmas sweater.

When asked by the New York World to comment on the significance of Christmas, Mary Baker Eddy wrote: "The basis of Christmas is the rock, Christ Jesus; its fruits are inspiration and spiritual understanding of joy and rejoicing,—not because of tradition, usage, or corporeal pleasures, but because of fundamental and demonstrable truth, because of the heaven within us" (The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, p. 260). On that bright Christmas morning, I took the time to learn more about that heaven, within me and everywhere, embracing all creation in love.

Was I alone at Christmas? Not at all! God was right there loving and blessing me. Was that love real, and was the blessing satisfying? They honestly were—more than I could have imagined. And yes, the Psalmist turned out to be right on target again. After my morning in quiet study, there was a holiday feast laid at the home of friends, to which I was invited.

That Christmas season, I shopped and decorated and danced and sang carols and entertained and went to concerts and found exactly the star-shaped cookie cutter I needed in a quaint seaside shop. It was one of the happiest holidays I ever had. The reason was, I didn't let grief or fear or loneliness keep me from accepting the Christmas love of my heavenly Father-Mother, God. I found that love expressed in countless tangible ways. And what a wonderful Christmas gift it was!

God has the same gift of love for all of us. It was delivered centuries ago, and no one has to wait until December 25 to unwrap it. The only question now is, Will we accept it?