Life's Challenges - Stories - Christmas
My Birthday
As you well know, we are getting closer to my birthday. Every year there is a
celebration in my honor and I think that this year the celebration will be
repeated. During this time there are many people shopping for gifts, there are
many radio announcements, TV commercials, and in every part of the world
everyone is talking that my birthday is getting closer and closer.
It is really very nice to know, that at least once a year, some people think of
me. As you know, the celebration of my birthday began many years ago. At first
people seemed to understand and be thankful of all that I did for them, but in
these times, no one seems to know the reason for the celebration. Family and
friends get together and have a lot of fun, but they don't know the meaning of
the celebration.
I remember that last year there was a great feast in my honor. The dinner table
was full of delicious foods, pastries, fruits, assorted nuts and chocolates. The
decorations were exquisite and there were many, many beautifully wrapped gifts.
But, do you want to know something? I wasn't invited. I was the guest of honor
and they didn't remember to send me an invitation.
The party was for me, but when that great day came, I was left outside, they
closed the door in my face...and I wanted to be with them and share their table.
In truth, that didn't surprise me because in the last few years all close their
doors to me.
Since I was not invited, I decided to enter the party without making any noise.
I went in and stood in a corner. They were all drinking; there were some who
were drunk and telling jokes and laughing at everything. They were having a
great time. To top it all, this big fat man all dressed in red wearing a long
white beard entered the room yelling Ho-Ho-Ho! He seemed drunk. He sat on the
sofa and all the children ran to him, saying : "Santa Claus, Santa Claus".... as
if the party were in his honor !
At 12 midnight all the people began to hug each other ; I extended my arms
waiting for someone to hug me and .... do you know .... no one hugged me.
Suddenly they all began to share gifts. They opened them one by one with great
expectation. When all had been opened, I looked to see if, maybe, there was one
for me. What would you feel if on your birthday everybody shared gifts and you
did not get one ? I then understood that I was unwanted at that party and
quietly left. Every year it gets worse. People only remember to eat and drink,
the gifts, the parties and nobody remembers me. I would like this Christmas that
you allow me to enter into your life. I would like that you recognize the fact
that almost two thousand years ago I came to this world to give my life for you,
on the cross, to save you. Today, I only want that you believe this with all you
heart.
I want to share something with you. As many didn't invite me to their party, I
will have my own celebration, a grandiose party that no one has ever imagined, a
spectacular party. I'm still making the final arrangements. Today I am sending
out many invitations and there is an invitation for you. I want to know if you
wish to attend and I will make a reservation for you and write your name with
golden letters in my great guest book. Only those on the guest list will be
invited to the party. Those who don't answer the invitation, will be left
outside.
Do you know how you can answer this invitation? it is by extending it to others
whom you care for...
I'll be waiting for all of you to attend my party this year...
See you soon..... I love you !
Jesus
Author Unknown
Two Babes In A
Manger
In 1994, two Americans answered an invitation from the Russian Department of
Education to teach morals and ethics (based on Biblical principles) in the
public schools. They were invited to teach at prisons, businesses, the fire and
police departments and a large orphanage. About 100 boys and girls who had been
abandoned, abused, and left in the care of a government-run program were in the
orphanage. They relate the following story in their own words:
It was nearing the holiday season, 1994, time for our orphans to hear, for the
first time, the traditional story of Christmas. We told them about Mary and
Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a
stable, where the baby Jesus was born and placed in a manger. Throughout the
story, the children and orphanage staff sat in amazement as they listened. Some
sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every word. Completing the
story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude
manger. Each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins I had
brought with me. No colored paper was available in the city. Following
instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the
manger for straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn-out nightgown an
American lady was throwing away as she left Russia, were used for the baby's
blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt we had brought from the United
States.
The orphans were busy assembling their manger as I walked among them to see if
they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little Misha
sat. He looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project. As I looked
at the little boy's manger, I was startled to see not one, but two babies in the
manger. Quickly, I called for the translator to ask the lad why there were two
babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of him and looking at this
completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously.
For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he related
the happenings accurately -- until he came to the part where Mary put the baby
Jesus in the manger. Then Misha started to ad-lib. He made up his own ending to
the story as he said, "And when Maria laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked
at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mamma and I
have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay
with him. But I told him I couldn't, because I didn't have a gift to give him
like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought
about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I thought maybe if I kept
him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, 'If I keep you warm, will
that be a good enough gift?' And Jesus told me, 'If you keep me warm, that will
be the best gift anybody ever gave me.' So I got into the manger, and then Jesus
looked at me and he told me I could stay with him -- for always."
As little Misha finished his story, his eyes brimmed full of tears that splashed
down his little cheeks. Putting his hand over his face, his head dropped to the
table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed. The little orphan had
found someone who would never abandon nor abuse him, someone who would stay with
him FOR ALWAYS.
I've learned that it's not what you have in your life, but who you have in your
life that counts.
Author Unknown
A Candy
Maker's Witness
A candy maker wanted to make a candy that would be a witness, so he made the
Christmas Candy Cane. He incorporated several symbols for the birth, ministry,
and death of Jesus Christ.
He began with a stick of pure white hard candy. White to symbolize the Virgin
birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the Solid Rock, the
foundation of the Church, and the firmness of the promises of God.
The candy maker made the candy in the form of a "J" to represent the precious
name of Jesus, who came to earth as our Savior. It could also represent the
staff of the "Good Shepherd" with which He reaches down into the ditches of the
world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone astray.
Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candy maker stained it with red
stripes. He used three small stripes to show the stripes of the scourging Jesus
received by which we are healed. The large red stripe was for the blood shed by
Christ on the cross so that we could have the promise of eternal life.
Unfortunately, the candy became known as Candy Cane-a meaningless decoration
seen at Christmas time. But the meaning is still there for those who "have eyes
to see and ears to hear." I pray that this symbol will again be used to witness
To The Wonder of Jesus and His Great Love that came down at Christmas and
remains the ultimate and dominant force in the universe today.
Author Unknown
Why
is JESUS Better than Santa Claus?
Santa lives at the North Pole ...Jesus is everywhere.
Santa rides in a sleigh ...Jesus rides on the wind and walks on the water.
Santa comes but once a year... Jesus is an ever present help.
Santa fills your stockings with goodies ...Jesus supplies all your needs.
Santa comes down your chimney uninvited ...Jesus stands at your door and knocks,
and enters your heart.
You have to wait in line to see Santa ...Jesus is as close as the mention of His
name.
Santa lets you sit on his lap ...Jesus lets you rest in His Arms.
Santa doesn't know your name, all he can say is "Hi, little boy or girl, what's
your name?"... Jesus knew our name before we did. Not only does He know our
name, He knows our history and future, and He even knows our hearts and how many
hairs are on our heads.
Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly ...JESUS has a heart full of love,
grace, mercy and forgiveness.
All Santa can offer is HO HO HO ...JESUS says, "Cast your cares on me for I care
for you."
Santa may make you chuckle but ...JESUS gives you joy that is your strength.
While Santa puts gifts under your tree ...JESUS became our gift and died on the
tree, For you and me.
It's obvious there is really no comparison. We need to remember, WHO Christmas
is all about. We need to put Christ back in Christmas, JESUS is still the reason
for the season.
Yes, JESUS is better, He is even better than Santa Claus.
Merry CHRISTmas
Author Unknown
The Legend of
the Poinsettia
A charming story is told of Pepita, a poor Mexican girl who had no gift to
present the Christ Child at Christmas Eve Services. As Pepita walked slowly to
the chapel with her cousin Pedro, her heart was filled with sadness rather than
joy.
"I am sure, Pepita, that even the most humble gift, if given in love, will be
acceptable in His eyes," said Pedro consolingly.
Not knowing what else to do, Pepita knelt by the roadside and gathered a handful
of common weeds, fashioning them into a small bouquet. Looking at the scraggly
bunch of weeds, she felt more saddened and embarrassed than ever by the
humbleness of her offering. She fought back a tear as she entered the small
village chapel.
As she approached the alter, she remembered Pedro's kind words: "Even the most
humble gift, if given in love, will be acceptable in His eyes." She felt her
spirit lift as she knelt to lay the bouquet at the foot of the nativity scene.
Suddenly, the bouquet of weeds burst into blooms of brilliant red, and all who
saw them were certain that they had witnessed a Christmas miracle right before
their eyes.
From that day on, the bright red flowers were known as the Flores de Noche
Buena, or Flowers of the Holy Night, for they bloomed each year during the
Christmas season.
Author Unknown
The Christmas Gift
A friend of mine named Paul received an automobile from his brother as a
Christmas present. On Christmas Eve when Paul came out of his
office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it.
"Is this your car, Mister?" he asked.
Paul nodded. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas." The boy was astounded.
"You mean your brother gave it to you and it didn't cost
you nothing? Boy, I wish..." He hesitated.
Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he had a
brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul
all the way down to his heels.
"I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."
Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added, "Would you
like to take a ride in my automobile?"
"Oh yes, I'd love that."
After a short ride, the boy turned and with his eyes aglow, said, "Mister, would
you mind driving in front on my house?"
Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show
his neighbors that he could ride home in a big
automobile. But Paul was wrong again. "Will you stop where those two steps are?"
the boy asked.
He ran up the steps. Then in a little while Paul heard him coming back, but he
was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled
brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against
him and pointed to the car.
"There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him
for Christmas and it didn't cost him a cent. And some day
I'm gonna give you one just like it... then you can see for yourself all the
pretty things in the Christmas windows that I've been trying
to tell you about."
Paul got out and lifted the lad to the front seat of his car. The shingled-eyed
older brother climbed in beside him and the three of
them began a memorable holiday ride.
That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when he had said,
"It's more blessed to give...."
Author unknown
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Teach The Children
Late one Christmas Eve, I sank back, tired, but content, into my easy chair. The
kids were in bed, the gifts were wrapped, the
milk and cookies waited by the fireplace for Santa. As I sat back admiring the
tree with its decorations, I couldn't help feeling
that something important was missing. It wasn't long before the tiny twinkling
tree lights lulled me to sleep. I don't know how
long I slept, but all of a sudden I knew that I wasn't alone. I opened my eyes,
and you can imagine my surprise when I saw Santa
Claus himself, standing next to my Christmas tree.
He was dressed all in fur from his head to his foot just as the poem described
him, but he was not the "jolly old elf" of Christmas
legend. The man who stood before me looked sad and disappointed. And there were
tears in his eyes. "Santa, what's wrong?" I asked,
"Why are you crying?" "It's the children," Santa replied sadly. "But Santa, the
children love you," I said. "Oh, I know they love
me, and they love the gifts I bring them," Santa said, "but the children of
today seem to have somehow missed out on the true spirit
of Christmas. It's not their fault. It's just that the adults, many of them not
having been taught themselves, have forgotten to teach
the children." "Teach them what?" I asked. Santa's kind old face became soft,
more gentle. His eyes began to shine with something
more than tears. He spoke softly. "Teach the children the true meaning of
Christmas. Teach them that the part of Christmas we can
see, hear, and touch is much more than meets the eye. Teach them the symbolism
behind the customs and traditions of Christmas which
we now observe. Teach them what it is they truly represent." Santa reached into
his bag and pulled out a tiny Christmas tree and set it
on my mantle. "Teach them about the Christmas tree. Green is the second color of
Christmas. The stately evergreen, with its
unchanging color, represents the hope of eternal life in Jesus. Its needles
point heavenward as a reminder that mankind's thoughts
should turn heavenward as well." Santa reached into his bag again and pulled out
a shiny star and placed it at the top of the small
tree. "The star was the heavenly sign of promise. God promised a Savior for the
world and the star was the sign of the fulfillment
of that promise on the night that Jesus Christ was born. Teach the children that
God always fulfills His promises, and that wise men
still seek Him." "Red," said Santa, "is the first color of Christmas." "He
pulled forth a red ornament for the tiny tree.
Red is deep, intense, vivid. It is the color of the life-giving blood that flows
through our veins. It is the symbol of God's
greatest gift. Teach the children that Christ gave His life and shed His blood
for them that they might have Eternal Life. When
they see the color red, it should remind them of that most wonderful gift."
Santa found a silver bell in his pack and placed it on the tree. "Just as lost
sheep are guided to safety by the sound of the bell,
it continues to ring today for all to be guided to the fold. Teach the children
to follow the true Shepherd, who gave His life for
the sheep." Santa placed a candle on the mantle and lit it. The soft glow from
its one tiny flame brightened the room. "The glow
of the candle represents how people can show their thanks for the gift of God's
Son that Christmas Eve long ago. Teach the children
to follow in Christ's footsteps...to go about doing good.
Teach them to let their light shine before people that all may see it and
glorify God. This is what's symbolized when the twinkle
lights shine on the tree like hundreds of bright shining lights, each of them
representing one of God's precious children's light
shining for all to see." Again Santa reached into his bag and this time he
brought forth a tiny red and white striped cane. As he hung
it on the tree he spoke softly. "The candy cane is a stick of hard white candy.
White to symbolize the virgin birth and sinless nature
of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the Solid Rock, the foundation of the church,
and the firmness of God's promises. The candy cane
form's a "J" to represent the precious name of Jesus, who came to earth. It also
represents the Good Shepherd's crook, which He uses
to reach down into all ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs who,
like all sheep, have gone astray. The original candy cane
had three small red stripes, which are the stripes of the scourging Jesus
received by which we are healed, and a large red stripe that
represents the shed blood of Jesus, so that we can have the promise of Eternal
Life.
Teach these things to the children."
Santa brought out a beautiful wreath made of fresh, fragrant greenery tied with
a bright red bow. "The bow reminds us of the bond of
perfection, which is love. The wreath embodies all the good things about
Christmas for those with eyes to see and hearts to understand.
It contains the colors of red and green and the heaven-turned needles of the
evergreen. The bow tells the story of good will towards all
and its color reminds us of Christ's sacrifice. Even its very shape is symbolic,
representing eternity and the eternal nature of Christ's
love. It is a circle, without beginning and without end. These are the things you
must teach the children."
I asked, "But where does that leave you Santa?"
The tears gone now from his eyes, a smile broke over Santa's face. "Why bless
you, my dear," he laughed, "I'm only a symbol myself. I
represent the spirit of family fun and the joy of giving and receiving. If the
children are taught these other things, there is
no danger that I'll ever be forgotten."
"I think I'm beginning to understand." I Said.
"That's why I came," said Santa. "You're an adult. If you don't teach the
children these things, then who will?"
Author Unknown
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The Dime
Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't
wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers
he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold.
Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already. And, try as he might,
he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his
head as he thought,
"This is useless, even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to
spend."
Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had
struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never
seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that
she was earning could only be stretched so far.
What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for
in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran
the house hold in their mother's absence. All three of his sisters had already
made beautiful gifts for their mother. Somehow it just wasn't fair. Here it was
Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing.
Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to
the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a
father, especially when he needed a man to talk to. Bobby walked from shop to
shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so
out of reach.
It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when
suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of
something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never
before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment. As he held his
new found treasure, a warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked
into the first store he saw. His excitement quickly turned cold when the
salesperson told him that he couldn't buy anything with only a dime.
He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked
if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one
flower for his mother's Christmas gift. The shop owner looked at Bobby and his
ten cent offering. Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him,
"You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you." As Bobby waited he
looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could see why
mothers and girls liked flowers. The sound of the door closing as the last
customer left jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began
to feel alone and afraid.
Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby's
eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white
flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner
picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box. "That will be ten
cents young man." the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime.
Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true? No
one else would give him a thing for his dime! Sensing the boy's reluctance, the
shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents a
dozen. Would you like them?" This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man
placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door
that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry
Christmas, son."
As he returned inside, the shop keeper's wife walked out. "Who were you talking
to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?"
Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A
strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open
the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best
roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind
or what, but I set them aside anyway. Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy
came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small
dime. When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too, was a poor boy
with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never
knew, stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten
dollars. When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I
put together a dozen of my very best roses."
The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out
into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.
May this story instill the spirit of Christmas in you enough to pass this loving
act along.
Have a Joyous and Peace-filled season.
Author Unknown
A Christmas Gift
Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't
wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers
he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold.
Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already. And, try as he might,
he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift.
He shook his head as he thought, "This is useless, even if I do come up with an
idea, I don't have any money to spend."
Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had
struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never
seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that
she was earning could only be stretched so far.
What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for
in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran
the household in their mother's absence.
All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother.
Somehow it just wasn't fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had
nothing. Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk
down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six
without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to.
Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything
seemed so beautiful and so out of reach. It was starting to get dark and Bobby
reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the
setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb.
He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never before has anyone felt so
wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment. As he held his newfound treasure, a warmth
spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw. His
excitement quickly turned cold when salesperson after salesperson told him that
he could not buy anything with only a dime.
He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked
if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one
flower for his mother's Christmas gift. The shop owner looked at Bobby and his
ten cent offering. Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him,
"You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you."
Bobby waited, he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy,
he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers.
The sound of the door closing as the last customer left, jolted Bobby back to
reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid. Suddenly
the shop owner came out and moved to the counter. There, before Bobby's eyes,
lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all
tied together with a big silver bow.
Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a
long white box.
"That will be ten cents young man," the shop owner said reaching out his hand
for the dime.
Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true? No
one else would give him a thing for his dime!
Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have
some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?"
This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his
hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for
Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son."
As he returned inside, the shop keepers wife walked out. "Who were you talking
to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?"
Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A
strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open
the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best
roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind
or what, but I set them aside anyway.
Then just a few minutes ago a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a
flower for his mother with one small dime.
When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too was a poor boy with
nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never knew,
stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars. When
I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I put together a
dozen of my very best roses."
The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out
into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.
Author Unknown
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Courage
It was a few weeks before Christmas 1917. The beautiful snowy landscapes of
Europe were blackened by war.
The trenches on one side held the Germans and on the other side the trenches
were filled with Americans. It was World War 1. The exchange of gunshots were
intense. Separating them was a very narrow strip of no-man's-land. A young
German soldier attempting to cross that no-man's-land had been shot and had
become entangled in the barbed wire. He cried out in anguish, then in pain he
continued to whimper.
Between the shells all the Americans in that sector could hear him scream.
When one American soldier could stand it no longer, he crawled out of the
American trenches and on his stomach crawled to that German soldier. When the
Americans realized what he was doing they stopped firing, but the Germans
continued. Then a German officer realized what the young American was doing and
he ordered his men to cease firing. Now there was a weird silence across the
no-man's-land. On his stomach, the American made his way to the German
soldier and disentangled him. He stood up with the German in his arms, walked
straight to the German trenches and placed him in the waiting arms of his
comrades. Having done so, he turned and started back to the American trenches.
Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder that spun him around. There stood a
German officer who had won the Iron Cross, the highest German Honor for bravery.
He jerked it from his own uniform and placed it on the American, who walked back
to the American trenches. When he was safely in the trenches, they resumed the
insanity of war!
Author Unknown
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The Missing Jesus
About a week before Christmas the family bought a new nativity scene. When they
unpacked it they found 2 figures of the Baby Jesus. "Someone must have packed
this wrong," the mother said, counting out the figures. "We have one Joseph, one
Mary, three wise men, three shepherds, two lambs, a donkey, a cow, an angel and
two babies. Oh, dear! I suppose some set down at the store is missing a Baby
Jesus because we have 2."
"You two run back down to the store and tell the manager that we have an extra
Jesus. Tell him to put a sign on the remaining boxes saying that if a set is
missing a Baby Jesus, call 777-8152. "Put on your warm coats, it's freezing cold
out there."
The manager of the store copied down mother's message and the next time they
were in the store they saw the cardboard sign that read, "If you're missing Baby
Jesus, call 777-8152."
All week long they waited for someone to call. Surely, they thought, someone was
missing that important figurine. Each time the phone rang mother would say,
"I'll bet that's about Jesus," but it never was. Father tried to explain there
are thousands of these scattered over the country and the figurine could be
missing from a set in Florida or Texas or California. Those packing mistakes
happen all the time. He suggested just put the extra Jesus back in the box and
forget about it. "Put Baby Jesus back in the box! What a terrible thing to do
said the children." "Surely someone will call," mother said. "We'll just keep
the two of them together in the manger until someone calls."
When no call had come by 5:00 PM on Christmas Eve, mother insisted that father
"just run down to the store" to see if there were any sets left. "You can see
them right through the window, over on the counter," she said. "If are all gone,
I'll know someone is bound to call tonight." "Run down to the store?" father
thundered. "It's 15 below zero out there!"
"Oh, Daddy, we'll go with you," Tommy and Mary began to put on their coats.
Father gave a long sigh and headed for the front closet. "I can't believe I'm
doing this," he muttered.
Tommy and Mary ran ahead as father reluctantly walked out in the cold. Mary got
to the store first and pressed her nose up to the store window. "They're all
gone, Daddy," she shouted. "Every set must be sold."
"Hooray, Tommy said "The mystery will now be solved tonight!"
Father heard the news still a half block away and immediately turned on his heel
and headed back home. When they got back into the house they noticed that mother
was gone and so was the extra Baby Jesus figurine. "Someone must have called and
she went out to deliver the figurine," my father reasoned, pulling off his
boots. "You kids get ready for bed while I wrap mother's present."
Then the phone rang. Father yelled "answer the phone and tell 'em we found a
home for Jesus." But it was mother calling with instructions for us to come to
205 Chestnut Street immediately, and bring three blankets, a box of cookies and
some milk.
"Now what has she gotten us into?" my father groaned as we bundled up again.
"205 Chestnut. Why that's across town. Wrap that milk up good in the blankets or
it will turn to ice before we get there. Why can't we all just get on with
Christmas? It's probably 20 below out there now. And the wind is picking up. Of
all the crazy things to do on a night like this."
When they got to the house at 205 Chestnut Street it was the darkest one on the
block. Only one tiny light burned in the living room and, the moment we set foot
on the porch steps, my mother opened the door and shouted, "They're here, Oh
thank God you got here, Ray! You kids take those blankets into the living room
and wrap up the little ones on the couch. I'll take the milk and cookies."
"Would you mind telling me what is going on, Ethel?" my father asked. "We have
just walked through below zero weather with the wind in our faces all the way."
"Never mind all that now," my mother interrupted. "There is no heat in this
house and this young mother is so upset she doesn't know what to do. Her husband
walked out on her and those poor little children will have a very bleak
Christmas, so don't you complain. I told her you could fix that oil furnace in a
jiffy.
My mother strode off to the kitchen to warm the milk while my brother and I
wrapped up the five little children who were huddled together on the couch. The
children's mother explained to my father that her husband had run off, taking
bedding, clothing, and almost every piece of furniture, but she had been doing
all right until the furnace broke down.
"I been doin' washin' and ironin' for people and cleanin' the five and dime,"
she said. "I saw your number every day there, on those boxes on the counter.
When the furnace went out, that number kept going' through my mind. 777-8152,
777-8152. "Said on the box that if a person was missin' Jesus, they should call
you. That's how I knew you were good Christian people, willin' to help folks. I
figured that maybe you would help me, too. So stopped at the grocery store
tonight and I called your missus. I'm not missin' Jesus, mister, because I sure
love the Lord. But I am missin' heat. I have no money to fix that furnace.
Okay, Okay said father. You've come to the right place. Now lets see. You've got
a little oil burner over there in the dining room. Shouldn't be too hard to fix.
Probably just a clogged flue. I'll look it over, see what it needs."
Mother came into the living room carrying a plate of cookies and warm milk. As
she set the cups down on the coffee table, I noticed the figure of Baby Jesus
lying in the center of the table. It was the only sign of Christmas in the
house. The children stared wide-eyed with wonder at the plate of cookies my
mother set before them.
Father finally got the oil burner working but said you need more oil. I'll make
a few calls tonight and get some oil. Yes, sir, you came to the right place,
father grinned.
On the way home father did not complain about the cold weather and had barely
set foot inside the door when he was on the phone.
Ed, hey, how are 'ya, Ed?" "Yes, Merry Christmas to you, too. Say Ed, we have
kind of an unusual situation here I know you've got that pickup truck. Do you
still have some oil in that barrel on your truck? You do?
By this time the rest of the family were pulling clothes out of their closets
and toys off of their shelves. It was long after their bedtime when they were
wrapping gifts. The pickup came. On it were chairs, three lamps, blankets and
gifts. Even though it was 30 below, father let them ride along in the back of
the truck.
No one ever did call about the missing figure in the nativity set, but as I grow
older I realize that it wasn't a packing mistake at all. Jesus saves, that's
what He does.
Author Unknown
God's Geese
There was once a man who didn't believe in the incarnation of Christ or the
spiritual meaning of Christmas, and was skeptical about God. He and his family
lived in a farm community. His wife was a devout believer and diligently raised
her children in her faith. He sometimes gave her a hard time about her faith and
mocked her religious observance of Christmas. "It's all nonsense - why would God
lower himself and become a human like us?! It's such a ridiculous story!" he
said.
One snowy Christmas day, she and the children left for church while he stayed
home. After they had left, the winds grew stronger and the snow turned into a
blinding snowstorm. He sat down to relax before the fire for the evening. Then
he heard a loud thump, something hitting against the window. And another thump.
He looked outside but couldn't see. So he ventured outside.
In the field near his house he saw, of all the strangest things, a flock of
geese! They were apparently flying to look for a warmer area down south, but had
been caught in the snow storm. The storm had become too blinding and violent for
the geese to fly or see their way. They were stranded on his farm, with no food
or shelter, unable to do more than flutter their wings and fly in aimless
circles.
He had compassion for them and wanted to help them. He thought to himself, "The
barn would be a great place for them to stay! It's warm and safe; surely they
could spend the night and wait out the storm."
So he opened the barn doors for them. He waited, watching them, hoping they
would notice the open barn and go inside. But they didn't notice the barn or
realize what it could mean for them. He moved closer toward them to get their
attention, but they just moved away from him out of fear. He went into the house
and came back out with some bread, broke it up, and made a bread trail to the
barn. They still didn't catch on. Starting to get frustrated, he went over and
tried to shoo them toward the barn. They panicked and scattered into every
direction except toward the barn.
Nothing he did could get them to go onto the barn where there was warmth, safety
and shelter. Feeling totally frustrated, he exclaimed, "Why don't they follow
me? Can't they see this is the only place where they can survive the storm?
How can I possibly get them into the one place to save them?" He thought for a
moment and realized that they just wouldn't follow a human. He said to himself,
"How can I possibly save them? The only way would be for me to become like those
geese. If only I could become one of them! Then I could save them! Then they
would follow me and I would lead them to safety." At that moment, he stopped and
considered what he had said. The words reverberated in his mind: "If only I
could become one of them then I could save them." And then, at last, he
understood God's Heart towards mankind, and he fell on his knees in the snow and
Worshipped God.
Addendum -- John 1:14 " The Word became a human being and, full of grace and
truth, lived among us. We saw his glory, the glory which he received as the
Father's only Son. "
Author Unknown
Room At The Table
Have you ever noticed that dining room tables seat six, eight, or twelve-not
seven, nine, or thirteen? I've been single all my life, usually not thinking
much of it. But on holidays even the place-settings conspire against me,
rendering a silent rebuke against my single status.
You can endure holiday dinners two ways if you're single: 1) Bring someone you
don't particularly care for; 2) Hear the awful words "pull up an extra seat," a
euphemism for either a collapsible chair or one that is too high or too low for
the table. Either strategy leaves you uncomfortable.
At Thanksgiving two years ago, while my calves cramped from straddling the leg
of my brother's dining room table, Aunt Nell took the opportunity to ask for
details about my love life, which was seriously lacking at the time. The event
was excruciating.
Though I enjoy singlehood in the main, there have been times when I've worked
myself into a mad frenzy looking for someone to fill a void I thought I couldn't
satisfy on my own. Someone, anyone with a pulse would do. Over the years, I
dated quite a few guys I liked-I was even engaged once but "till death do we
part" seemed a very long time. I always ended up alone again.
So holidays, especially with the Aunt Nells of the family, can weaken my
confidence, leaving me a little bereft. One day, noting my frustration
surrounding the holidays, a friend of mine suggested we try something different
on the next such occasion.
"How `bout you and I go down to a homeless shelter and help out? Then maybe
we'll be grateful for what we have," she proposed. I had a thousand reasons why
this wasn't a good idea, but my friend persisted. The next Christmas I found
myself in an old downtown warehouse, doling out food. Never in my life had I
seen so many turkeys and rows of pumpkin pies. Decorations donated by a nearby
grocery store created a festive atmosphere that uplifted even my reluctant
spirit. When everyone was fed, I took a tray and filled a plate with the
bountiful harvest. After a few bites, I knew what everyone was carrying on
about; the food was really good.
My dinner companions were easy company. Nobody asked me why I didn't have a date
or when I was going to settle down. People just seemed grateful for a place to
sit and enjoy a special dinner. To my surprise, I found I had much in common
with my fellow diners. They were people just like me.
My experience that Christmas brought me back to the shelter the following year.
I enjoyed helping others so much that I began seeking more opportunities to
serve. I started volunteering for the Literacy Foundation once a week. I figured
I could sit in front of the TV, or I could use those evening hours to help
others learn to read.
Caring for others has abundantly filled the void in my life that I had sometimes
interpreted as a missing mate. When I stopped trying to so hard to fit in, I
realized I was single for a reason and found my own special purpose.
There is room at the table for a party of one. And sometimes "just one" is the
perfect fit.
Author Unknown
True Meaning of
Christmas
Just a week before Christmas I had a visitor. This is how it happened. I had
just finished the household chores for the night and was preparing to go to bed,
when I heard a noise in the front of the house. I opened the door to the front
room, and to my surprise, Santa himself stepped out from behind the Christmas
tree. He placed his finger over his mouth so I would not cry out.
"What are you doing?" I started to ask.
The words choked up in my throat, and I saw that he had tears in his eyes. His
usual jolly manner was gone. Gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know. He
then answered me with a simple statement: "TEACH THE CHILDREN!"
I was puzzled, what did he mean?
He anticipated my question, and with one quick movement brought forth a
miniature toy bag from behind the tree. As I stood bewildered, Santa said,
"Teach the children. Teach them the real meaning of Christmas. The meaning of
Christmas that nowadays has been forgotten."
Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a FIR TREE and placed it before the
mantle. Teach the children that the pure green color of the stately fir tree
remains green all year round, depicting the everlasting hope of mankind. All the
needles point Heavenward, making it a symbol of man's thoughts turning toward
Heaven.
He again reached into his bag and pulled out a brilliant STAR. Teach the
children that the star was the Heavenly sign of promises long ago. God promised
a Savior for the world, and the star was the sign of the fulfillment of His
promise.
He then reached into his bag and pulled out a CANDLE. Teach the children that
the candle symbolizes that Christ is the light of the world, and when we see
this great light, we are reminded of He who displaces the darkness.
Once again he reached into his bag and removed a WREATH and placed it on the
tree. Teach the children that the wreath symbolizes the real nature of love
Christ showed for us. Real love never ceases. Love is one continuous round of
affection.
He then pulled from his bag an ornament of HIMSELF. Teach the children that I,
Santa Claus, symbolize the generosity and good will we feel during the month of
December.
He then brought out a HOLLY LEAF. Teach the children that the holly plant
represents immortality. It represents the crown of thorns worn by our Savior.
The red holly berries represent the blood that He shed for us.
Next he pulled from his bag a GIFT and said, "Teach the children that God so
loved the world that whoever believes in Him shall have everlasting life." (John
3:16) Thanks be to God for His unspeakable gift. Teach the children that the
wise men bowed before the Holy Babe and presented Him with gold, frankincense
and myrrh. We should always give gifts in the same spirit of the wise men.
Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a CANDY CANE and hung it on the
tree. Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherd's crook.
The crook on the staff helps to bring strayed sheep back to the flock. The candy
cane is the symbol that we are our brother's keeper.
He reached in again and pulled out an ANGEL. Teach the children that it was the
angels that heralded the glorious news of the Savior's birth. The angels sang
"Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men of good will."
Suddenly I heard a soft tinkling sound, and from his bag he pulled out a BELL.
Teach the children that as the lost sheep are found by the sound of the bell, it
should bring mankind to the fold. The bell symbolizes guidance and return.
Santa looked around and was pleased. He looked back at me and I saw that the
twinkle was back in his eyes. He said, "Remember, TEACH THE CHILDREN the true
meaning of Christmas and do not put me in the center for I am but a humble
servant of the One that is, and I bow down to worship Him, Our Lord, Our God,
and Savior.
Author Unknown
Herman and I locked our general store and dragged ourselves home. It was
11:00 p.m., Christmas Eve of 1949. We were dog tired. We had sold almost all of
our toys; and all of the layaways, except one package, had been picked up.
Usually we kept the store open until everything had been claimed. We wouldn't
have been happy on Christmas knowing that some child's gift was still on the
layaway shelf. But the person who had put a dollar down on the package never
returned.
Early Christmas morning we and our twelve-year-old son, Tom, opened gifts. But
I'll tell you, there was something humdrum about this Christmas. Tom was growing
up; I missed his childish exuberance of past years. As soon as breakfast was
over Tom left to visit his friend next door. Herman mumbled, "I'm going back to
sleep. There's nothing left to stay up for." So there I was alone, feeling let
down.
And then it began. A strange, persistent urge. It seemed to be telling me to go
to the store. I looked at the sleet and icy sidewalk outside. That's crazy, I
said to myself. I tried dismissing the urge, but it wouldn't leave me alone. In
fact, it was getting stronger. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, and I
got dressed. Outside, the wind cut right through me and the sleet stung my
cheeks. I groped my way to the store, slipping and sliding.
In front stood two boys, one about nine, and the other six. What in the world?
"See, I told you she would come!" the older boy said jubilantly. The younger
one's face was wet with tears, but when he saw me, his sobbing stopped. "What
are you two doing out here?" I scolded, hurrying them into the store. "You
should be at home on a day like this!" They were poorly dressed. They had no
hats or gloves, and their shoes barely held together. I rubbed their icy hands,
and got them up close to the heater.
"We've been waiting for you," replied the older boy. "My little brother Jimmy
didn't get any Christmas." He touched Jimmy's shoulder. "We want to buy some
skates. That's what he wants. We have these three dollars," he said, pulling the
bills from his pocket. I looked at the money. I looked at their expectant faces.
And then I looked around the store. "I'm sorry," I said, "but we have no --"
Then my eye caught sight of the lay-away shelf with its lone package. "Wait a
minute," I told the boys. I walked over, picked up the package, unwrapped it
and, miracle of miracles, there was a pair of skates! Jimmy reached for them.
Lord, let them be his size. And miracle added upon miracle, they were his size.
The older boy presented the dollars to me. "No," I told him, "I want you to have
these skates, and I want you to use your money to get some gloves." The boys
just blinked at first. Then their eyes became like saucers, and their grins
stretched wide when they understood I was giving them the skates. What I saw in
Jimmy's eyes was a blessing. It was pure joy, and it was beautiful. My spirits
rose.
We walked out together, and as I locked the door, I turned to the older brother
and said, "How did you know I would come?" I wasn't prepared for his reply. His
gaze was steady, and he answered me softly. "I asked Jesus to send you."
The tingles in my spine weren't from the cold. God had planned this. As we waved
good-bye, I turned home for a brighter Christmas.
Author Unknown
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