Churchill on Christmas

On September 7, 1940, the first Nazi bombs fell. Before the war was over, Luftwaffe bombs had killed more than 20,000 people and destroyed one million homes in London.

Fifteen months later — on December 7, 1941 — Imperial Japan attacked the US Naval base at Pearl Harbor. Nearly 2500 service members lost their lives in that attack.

With the world at war, Winston Churchill spent Christmas 1941 in Washington, D.C.

In the remarks that follow, we see that the best leaders are those who feel deepest. The ones who lead us through the darkness, the cycles of life, with clarity and purpose. Let us remind ourselves of that time-tested truth as we close out 2017.

Churchill’s speech on Christmas Eve 1941:

I spend this anniversary and festival far from my country, far from my family, and yet I cannot truthfully say that I feel far from home. Whether it be by the ties of blood on my mother’s side, or the friendships I have developed here over many years of active life, or the commanding sentiment of comradeship in the common cause of great peoples who speak the same language, who kneel at the same altars and, to a very large extent, pursue the same ideals, whichever it may be, or all of them together, I cannot feel myself a stranger here in the centre and at the summit of the United States. I feel a sense of unity and fraternal association which, added to the kindliness of your welcome, convinces me that I have a right to sit at your fireside and share your Christmas joys.

This is a strange Christmas Eve. Almost the whole world is locked in deadly struggle, and, with the most terrible weapons which science can devise, the nations advance upon each other. Ill would it be for us this Christmastide if we were not sure that no greed for the land or wealth of any other people, no vulgar ambition, no morbid lust for material gain at the expense of others, had led us to the field. Here, in the midst of war, raging and roaring over all the lands and seas, creeping nearer to our hearts and homes, here, amid all the tumult, we have tonight the peace of the spirit in each cottage home and in every generous heart. Therefore we may cast aside for this night at least the cares and dangers which beset us, and make for the children an evening of happiness in a world of storm. Here, then, for one night only, each home throughout the English-speaking world should be a brightly-lighted island of happiness and peace.

Let the children have their night of fun and laughter. Let the gifts of Father Christmas delight their play. Let us grown-ups share to the full in their unstinted pleasures before we turn again to the stern task and the formidable years that lie before us, resolved that, by our sacrifice and daring, these same children shall not be robbed of their inheritance or denied their right to live in a free and decent world.

And so, in God’s mercy, a happy Christmas to you all.