My name is Margret, and I want to take you on a journey through Christmas in our little village Lusanja, where the season has a quiet magic all its own. Only three weeks remain before we celebrate the birth of our Saviour, and already the village hums softly with excitement. Christmas here is not about bright lights or fancy decorations—it is about hearts full of hope, simple acts of love, and the joy that comes from Emmanuel, God with us.
Come, walk with me. On Christmas morning, we leave our homes and make our way to church. Feel the warm red earth under your feet, smell the faint smoke from cooking fires, hear the soft chatter of families preparing breakfast. Children run ahead, their laughter carrying through the air like tiny bells, while mothers carry babies on their backs, and fathers greet friends along the path. The sun rises slowly, painting the village in golden light, and the church bell begins to ring, calling everyone to worship. Inside, the choir’s songs lift with joy, voices blending as we celebrate the birth of Jesus—the Saviour born in a simple stable, long ago.
After the service, we walk home slowly, greeting neighbours along the way. Some prepare small packages for those who might spend Christmas alone—some maize, beans, a few sweet treats, and a prayer for comfort. We visit quietly, handing the gifts and offering prayers, reminding everyone that God’s love comes not in grandeur, but in simple, heartfelt ways. Each home visited carries a little light, just as the shepherds received the first announcement of Jesus’ birth in the fields that night long ago.
When the visits are done, the afternoon sun softens the village into a peaceful quiet. Smoke curls lazily from cooking fires, the scent of fresh bread and roasted maize drifts through the air, and families gather inside their humble homes. Here, they open their Bibles and let the story of Jesus’ birth fill their hearts. The eternal Son stepped into the world, not with power, but in vulnerability—born into a humble family, in a simple place. This birth was not just a story of joy, but the beginning of God’s rescue plan, pointing to the cross, showing that He came to save, redeem, and restore. Later, children sit close to their parents or siblings, listening to stories of Christmas and singing the songs they have learned, sharing warmth, laughter, and quiet moments of togetherness.
Christmas in our village is not measured by abundance or grandeur. It is measured by hearts turned to God, lives lived in love, and the quiet joy of Emmanuel—God with us. Every prayer whispered, every small gift given, and every song sung carries His light into the village and into hearts.
And as the village prepares for the big day, there is a prayer on every lip:
Heavenly Father, we thank You for the gift of Your Son, Jesus Christ, born in humility to save sinners. Help us to see the wonder of this day, not in our traditions or comforts, but in Your mercy and grace. Guide our hearts to worship You sincerely, to love others as You have loved us, and to rejoice in Your salvation. Protect those who are lonely or in need this season, and give courage to be Your hands and feet, reflecting the love of Christ. May the light of the Word made flesh shine in our hearts, homes, and communities, now and always. Amen.
From our little village to your home, may this Christmas be blessed, joyful, and full of the true magic of Christ’s love.
With Blessings Margret
A fascinating account of Christmas day in Uganda
The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. John 1
Thank you so much! Christmas here truly feels like a celebration of that Light—simple, joyful, and full of hope. We’re grateful for the chance to witness God’s love in such everyday moments.