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A Christmas Story


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Posted by John T on December 24, 2008 at 06:20:17 from (66.244.97.31):

I got this e mail and just had to share it here on Christmas Eve. At Christmas BEFORE opening any presents I make the family set quietly by the tree in the dark and listen to the Statler Brothers Christmas Song "The Greatest Christmas Present, is Something Money Cant Buy" it tears my heart out but its worth it. If anyone wants a CD copy e mail me jmn50@msn.com

Merry Christmas and pray for our troops

John T


A Christmas story:
> Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those
> who squandered their means and then never had enough for the
> necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his
> heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I
> learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from
> receiving.
> It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old
> and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there
> just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that
> I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that
> night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little
> extra time so we could read in the Bible.
>
> After supper was over I took my boots off and
> stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to
> get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for
> myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to
> read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he
> bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it
> out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't
> worry about it long though. I was too busy wallowing in
> self-pity. Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night
> out and there was ice in his beard.
> "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up
> good, it's cold out tonight."
> I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I
> getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out
> in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see.
> We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't
> think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on
> a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at
> one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do
> something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my
> cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I
> opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I
> didn't know what.
>
> Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front
> of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big
> sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going
> to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never
> hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big
> load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I
> reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was
> already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on,
> Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of
> the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think
> we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. Here,
> help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger
> job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but
> whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger
> with the high side boards
> on. ;
>
> After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into
> the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood
> I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and
> then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he
> doing? Finally I said something.
> "Pa," I asked, "what are you
> doing?"
> “You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he
> asked.
> The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the
> road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her
> with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd
> been by, but so what?
>
> Yeah," I said, "Why?"
>
> "I rode by just today," Pa said.
> "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile
> trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood,
> Matt."
> That was all he said and then he turned and went
> back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I
> followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to
> wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa
> called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke
> house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He
> handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and
> wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over
> his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his
> left hand.
> "What's in the little sack?" I asked.
>
> “Shoes, they're out of shoes. Little Jakey just
> had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in
> the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little
> candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a
> little candy."
> We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty
> much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was
> doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of
> course, we did have a big woodpile, thou gh most of what was
> left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to
> saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also
> had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we
> didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes
> and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow
> Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have
> been our concern.
> We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and
> unloaded the wood as quietly as possible then, we took the
> meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door
> opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is
> it?"
> "Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could
> we come in for a bit?"
> Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had
> a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were
> wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the
> fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat
> at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit
> the lamp.
>
> "We brought you a few things, Ma'am,"
> Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on
> the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes
> in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one
> pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each
> of the children - sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would
> last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to
> keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and
> started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like
> she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.
>
> "We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am,"
> Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in
> enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size
> and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person
> when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump
> in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were
> tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three
> kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing
> there with tears running down her cheeks with so much
> gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.
> My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd
> never known before filled my soul. I had given at Christmas
> many times before, but never when it had made so much
> difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives
> of these people.
> I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits
> soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each
> a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile
> that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time.
> She finally turned to us.
> "God bless you," she said. "I know
> the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying
> that he would send one of his angels to spare us."
>
> In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and
> the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought
> of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen
> mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was
> sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth.
> I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his
> way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless
> as I thought on it.
> Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we
> left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he
> had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was
> on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he
> got the right sizes.
> Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again
> when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his
> big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and
> didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed
> their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.
> At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said,
> "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over
> for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than
> the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if
> he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to
> get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little
> ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for
> quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers
> and two sisters had all married and had moved away.
> Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you,
> Brother Miles. I don't have to say, may the Lord bless
> you, I know for certain that He will."
> Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep
> within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had
> gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want
> you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a
> little money away here and there all year so we could buy
> that rifle for you, but we didn 't have quite enough.
> Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years
> back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were
> real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle,
> and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on
> the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile
> with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I
> had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little
> candy for those children. I hope you understand."
>
> I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears
> again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had
> done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of
> priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me
> the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles
> of her three children.
> For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the
> Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and
> remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home
> beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle
> that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.


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