Dec. 25th - The Last Present Under The Tree

Today's Inspiring Greeting

THE LAST PRESENT UNDER THE TREE

There is one last present under the Christmas tree, I wonder whose it is? Is it for the little girl with the rocking horse, Or is it for Grandma or Aunt Liz?

It looks so lonely, Sitting there by itself; It’d certainly be an awesome addition On "somebody’s" shelf.

The ribbon is gold, The paper is paisley red; "Who does it belong to?" Keeps rattling in my head;

I decided to snatch a peek, And see whose name is on the card; It’d only take a second, It won’t be very hard.

When no one was looking, I reached under the tree, Carefully handling the package, "Who knows, it may be for me!"

But when I read the card, I thought it was extraordinarily odd, Because the message read, "Love and Blessings," God.

Author: --Joel Bjorling

Dec. 24th - Thee Ol' Barn

Today's Inspiring Greeting

Oh HOLY NIGHT

~ THEE Ol'BARN ~

The Story Of A Barn That Doubles As A Church

'So where do you think we will be going to church next month?' That became a common inquiry from my husband. We had moved to this mid-Atlantic hinterland and found ourselves in search of a new church. This mission was compounded by the fact that we knew no one. Weekly, we checked out a different church to find the perfect place to worship.

After months, we found the perfect place (or so we thought). It was close to home, had a great children's program, and seemed to have an appropriate amount of young, growing families. I spoke with the greeter and found out who to call. The next day, Monday, I did just that. 

 

'Hello, may I speak with Reverend Coleman?...Oh, well is there a better time to reach him? My family and I have been relocated to this area, and we really like your church and your congregation and would like the appropriate paperwork to formally join.'

The receptionist, who had been taking Reverend Coleman's calls, told me that we could not join the church because too many families were enrolled. A new congregation was forming, however. 'Perhaps you could speak with someone there,' she said. I was to call a man whom I did not know, at a place that did not exist, for a congregation that was only being formed...somewhere.

 

'Okay, we will go back to the church one more time, and maybe we can find out where this new group meets,' I told my husband and children. They were agreeable, mainly because we always went to breakfast after church. The draw was not the worship but the fellowship and the feast afterward. At the next Sunday mass, the homily was actually given by the new leader of the scattered flock of people. Thus, we now had a contact; her name was Mary Lou. I called her the next day.

'Oh, yes, yes, yes!' she said. 'We would love to have you join our congregation. May I stop over and introduce myself and bring the paperwork for you and your family? We are still looking for a permanent place to have our weekly church gatherings, but we are delighted that you will be joining us.' Mary Lou chattered on for a while longer, and I knew we were going in the right direction, although I was not sure where.



'Mommy, I thought we were going to church,' Jay questioned the following Sunday as we pulled into the parking lot of a movie theater.

'We are, sweetheart,' I answered, as his daddy parked the car. Jason's eyes lit up, and he was not about to let this drop, thinking one or both of his parents had lost their minds. 'Why are we here if we are supposed to be going to church?'

'The church is not a church yet, and we do not have anywhere else to go, so we are going to the movie theater,' I explained. None of us really cared where we went after a few weeks, especially because on these days we began going to the movies after church, which took the place of breakfast. Pop and popcorn began to substitute for ham and eggs. 

As the summer wore into autumn, and the leaves began to drop from the trees, the congregation continued to grow and the accommodations in the movie theater became too small. It was time to move on again, and the new location was, again, due to the generosity of a community member. This time we were shuffled to an old, gray barn. It was not much to look at, but it served the purpose -- and our active, hard-working, and still-growing community gathered at this rustic spot, now filled with folding chairs.

It took a long time to get wiring into this dimly lit structure to supply us with light, heat, and a microphone. Reverend Appleby fortunately had a sense of humor and a booming voice. However, as October transitioned into November, and Thanksgiving ushered in Advent, our necessity for heavy coats during church became more apparent.


 

'Jim, make sure the kids have their gloves this morning,' I said. 'It is really cold. I know we should expect December weather, but the wind seems brutal today.'

'Check. We have gloves and hats, and I grabbed a blanket, just in case we need it. We can wrap these little monkeys up; they'll stay warm for the hour.'

The cold weather brought preparation but still no permanent church. December wore on and Christmas Eve appeared in a flash.

Again, we had the checklist before church. 'Honey, let's keep the kids extra warm. It may snow tonight. Can you help me get Katie's boots on?'

Robby, our second child, mumbled, 'Mommy, do we have to go? It's too cold.'

'Yes, honey, we do. It is Christmas Eve, and if we have time to wait for Santa, we have time to go to church and remember Jesus' birthday.'

So we packed up the children and drove to the barn. 'This is an exceptionally blustery night,' I remarked. 'It is a good thing that Daddy remembered the blanket, isn't it?'

'Yes!' the three children yelled in unison. Dusk slipped into darkness as we parked along the old country road and trudged along to the barn, children in tow, wrapped up so much that they could barely walk. We entered our familiar 'church.'


 

The old, gray barn was no longer just an old, gray barn. It had been transformed into a nativity scene -- a real one, with a real manger and real sheep and a cow and a donkey. Hay was everywhere. The eyes of the children were filled with sheer wonder. Amid the animals were people. The woman wore a blue robe, and the man was in old, brown sackcloth tied with a rope. He held a staff, and she held an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes. They were not just people; they were the Holy Family. They were surrounded by shepherds tending the flock. I don't remember what the music was, if there was any. Nor do I remember what the homily was, if one was given. I don't even know if we stayed warm enough. I do remember being in the presence of the true spirit of Christmas. It was magnificent. 

That Christmas Eve celebration could have lasted forever. We finally left the barn to find that snow was lightly falling and the stars were announcing the birth of Jesus. We all felt a silent joy at the miraculous event we had been witness to. Eventually, we did find a church to call our own. But nothing ever came close to that Christmas Eve of wonder, with Jesus in the old, gray barn.

By Elizabeth Toole

Dec. 23rd - A Christmas Tree Miracle

Today's Inspiring Greeting

A Christmas Tree Miracle
A True Story By Gloria Swain

December 1993, Christmas was fast approaching. It was the 23rd of December and here was I, a single mom trying to make the best Christmas possible for my son David.

I had just left the grocery store after purchasing our Christmas groceries. The Christmas tree had yet to be purchased, brought home & decorated. It had to be a real tree, which was a Christmas tradition in our home all through the years.

As I pulled my car into the tree lot my heart sank as I looked at the prices of trees listed on a wooden board. Surely they can't want fifty dollars for a tree this late in the Christmas season. Getting out of the car I approached the lot attendant and asked him what kind of a tree I could purchase with the twenty-three dollars I had left. "Nothing for you here at that price," was the answer.

Well here it was two days before Christmas, a lot full of trees and the lot attendant telling me I could not have a tree because their biggest selling days were just ahead. Hard to believe. So I slowly dragged my feet back to my car. Another tree lot a few blocks up the road revealed the same story. No bargains here, no trees for twenty-three dollars.

What was I to do. How could I go home and tell David we were not going to have a tree that year. Tears began to well up in my eyes. I had to stop the car on a side street, as I could not see the road through all my tears. As I sat in my vehicle, I proceeded to tell God all about the good things I had done for him that year, so how could he abandon me now when I needed him most. After my cry and my long talk with God, I dried my tears and headed the car homeward, not knowing what to do about a tree.

As I approached my street for some unknown reason my card headed down our back alley, something which I never did when I had groceries to unload. Almost immediately in front of me just two doors down from our house was a Christmas tree sitting right in the middle of the back alley. I had to slam on the car brakes to keep myself from running over it. I jumped out of the car to inspect this tree for I could not believe my eyes. On the tree was a white tag and it read "free tree". I could not believe it! Tears welled up in me. Looking around I tried to figure out where the tree came from. Following the footprints in the snow, holding the tree with tears streaming down my face, I ring the doorbell of a home a few doors away. An elderly gentleman answers the door and I throw myself at him sobbing. He tells me this story.

Three days ago he was at his farm chopping down two trees for his family like he normally did every Christmas. As he was leaving the farm something compelled him to go and chop down a third three. He didn't know why he or who he was chopping the tree down for. But he did and brought it home. Not knowing what to do with it he stuck it out in the back alley hoping someone would need it. Drying my tears and thanking this total stranger I left his yard dragging the most precious Christmas tree I had ever seen. I ran into the house screaming to David "look at the tree God gave us". It was the best Christmas tree we ever had. For it was a miracle supplied by God.

To this very day I still have the white tag off that tree, "free tree". And in my heart I know God cares so much about each one of us that he even cares whether or not we have a Christmas tree.

A true story by Gloria Swain

Dec. 22nd - Angels In Indiana

Today's Inspiring Greeting

Angels In Indiana At The Big Wheel

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either.

If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck.

The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I couldstart that night. I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people.

I bargained with her to come and sleep! on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money, fully half of what I averaged every night.

As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.

I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires. I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair. On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine.The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.

When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before! I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car, or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows.

Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour.

There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.

~ Angels In Indiana * Author Unknown ~

Dec. 21st - The Gold Wrapped Gift

Today's Inspiring Greeting

THE GOLD WRAPPED GIFT
The story goes that some time ago a man punished his 5-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became even more upset when the child pasted the gold paper so as to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift box
to her father the next morning and said,
"This is for you, Daddy."

The father was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty. He spoke to her in a harsh manner, "Don't you know, young lady, when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside the package?"

The little girl looked up at him
with tears in her eyes and said,
"Oh, Daddy, it's not empty.
I blew kisses into it until it was full."

The father was crushed. He fell on his knees and put his arms around his little girl, and he begged her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger.

An accident took the life of the child only a short time later and it is told that the father kept that gold box by his bed for all the years of his life. And whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems he would open the box and take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us as human beings have been given a golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold
Author Unknown

Dec.20th -The Leftover Letter To Santa

Today's Inspiring Greeting

LEFTOVER LETTER TO SANTA

A leftover letter to Santa
One that nobody had found;
And the child who sent this letter
Was the one that we all had let down.

She said, "Santa, please find
someone to love me
Now that I'm all alone;
I want someone to care
I want someone to share
And be there for me til I am grown.

"My daddy left the day I was born
And my mom died so I'm on my own;
I know that they're coming to take me away
And Christmas is only a few days away."

"So Santa, I beg you, hear my plea
Cause next year who knows where I'll be;
I'm scared and I'm lonely
And I don't want toys
Like all of the rest of the girls and boys."

"I just want a home and someone to love
Like my Mom who's now with the angels above."
So search your heart and search your mind
And who knows when you may find ...
A leftover letter to Santa.

Copyright 1996 by E.V. Hall
Visit Her Site Here

Dec. 19th - Playing Your Part

Today's Inspiring Greeting

PLAYING YOUR PART

It was Christmas Eve - our family was acting out the Christmas Story in our living room. Our daughter was in her bathrobe, portraying Mary. Our five-year old son was Joseph, also appearing in bathrobe. His little brother was, of course, Baby Jesus, lying in a laundry basket. And I was, appropriately, an angel - sitting on the back of the couch. My wife - well, she was under a sheepskin, crawling around the floor saying, "Baaa." And the doorbell rang. It was two teenagers we worked with in our outreach program. They had left home because everyone there was acting weird due to too much alcohol. And they weren't sure that we were any better off! But we invited them to come on in and join us in the Christmas Story.

As we count down to Christmas, I'd like to invite you into the Christmas Story. To play the part my wife was playing. You won't have to crawl around the floor saying "baaaa" - but you will be asked to be what Jesus says we are - sheep.

It's no accident that God picked shepherds to be the first to see His Son in human form ... and to be the first to spread the Good News about Jesus. After all, Jesus would later make this announcement in John 10:11, our word for today from the Word of God - "I am the good shepherd." That's exactly what we all need - a good shepherd. Because, according to the prophet Isaiah, "we all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way." (Isaiah 53:6)

We were supposed to follow the Lord as our shepherd. But every one of us - including the most religious person reading today, including the guy doing the talking here - all of us have said, like Frank Sinatra, "I'll do it my way." And that's why we feel so lost, so empty, why we can't figure out what the meaning of our life is. We've wandered away from the only One who knows why we're here, the One we were made for. And like sheep without a shepherd, we eventually wander into a wolf, into starvation, or over the edge of a cliff.

It's hard to admit, but real life begins when you're ready to admit, "I'm a lost sheep." When you do, you realize that a lost sheep's only hope is if the Shepherd comes looking for you - sheep just don't make it back to the shepherd on their own.And right here in the countdown to Christmas, the Shepherd has come looking for you right where you are. He's reaching out to you, He's ready to pick you up and make you His forever - if you'll ask Him to. Maybe you've done that, but you've started wandering off again. Jesus said, "My sheep listen to My voice ... and they follow Me." (John 10:27) Maybe you haven't been - it's time to come home. Those other voices are leading you down dead-end streets.

If you're ready to make the Shepherd who died for His sheep, if you want to make Him your Shepherd - if you want to know that you belong to Jesus Christ - reach up and give yourself to Him right where you are, right now. And if that's what you want, I would love to send you my booklet. It's called "Yours For Life." It's all about beginning your personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Just let me know that you want it.

Tonight, as your head hits your pillow, here in the countdown to Christmas, you may be able to say for the first time in your life
- "The Lord is my shepherd."

Dec. 18th - The White Envelope

Today's Inspiring Greeting

THE WHITE ENVELOPE

It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.

It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas -- oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma--the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else. Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike.

The inspiration came in an unusual way. Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."

Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition--one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.

Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

May we all remember the reason for the season and the true Christmas spirit this year and always.

God bless.

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Dec. 17th - Waiting For Santa

Today's Inspiring Greeting

WAITING FOR SANTA

Twas the day before Christmas and all she could do
Was hope that the store would be closing soon.
She didn't like Christmas, she no longer knew love
She cared not a thing about the One up above.

A little girl came and entered the store
A blonde, blue-eyed girl that she'd not seen before.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," the little girl said
She leaned over the counter to see the girl's head.

"How much is this dolly?" the little one asked
The gal at the counter almost answered too fast.
She wanted to say, 'Kid, you don't belong here;
Santa is dead and so are his deer.'

'There's no Christmas Spirit, no reason to live
We all want to receive and no one wants to give.'
But the little girls eyes looked so sad and forlorn
That the gal at the counter swallowed her scorn.

The little girl said that she'd just lost her dad;
Her mom was hurting and she always seemed mad.
Christmas was going to be different this year,
Her little voice trembled as she shed just one tear;

She said, "I wanted this dolly cause she looks just like me.
 If Mama could hold her, maybe she'd see
How nice it is to hold someone she loves."
The gal at the counter felt her heart give a shove.

She looked at the little blond girl standing there
And said, "You can have it, it's for me to share."
The little one said, "No, I just need to pay
So will you please tell me what it costs today?"

"I have some money, though I don't have a lot."
The gal at the counter asked, "How much have you got?"
 She stretched out her hand and opened her fist. 
She was holding a quarter and she said,
"I have this."

The gal at the counter thought, "Here goes fifty bucks"
 As she smiled at the little one and said, "You're in luck.
 The store is near closing and I'm having a sale." 
The little girls face no longer looked pale.

Her eyes got a twinkle and she gave her a smile as she 
asked if the gal would wait here for a while. She forgot something
 at home but she lived pretty near, and the gal at the counter said,
 "Sure, I'll wait here."

The little one ran and she said, "I'll be back" and soon she was, 
with a little brown sack. She looked at the gal and said, 
"This is for you, Please keep it with you, whatever you do.

"It's a present my daddy once gave to me. But not for my 
Birthday and wasn't under the tree. He said it's because I know 
how to show love and then he went to join the Lord up above."

The gal opened the bag and peeked in at the gift,
What she saw inside gave her heart a huge lift.
It was a Guardian Angel the little one shared,
And it proved to the gal that others did care.

That Christmas turned out to be the best one she'd had. 
She wasn't angry or bitter, nor was she sad, She got together 
with friends that she hadn't seen for some time 
and she listened to the church bells peal and chime.

The sales gal smiles to this day when she thinks of the 
little blond girl who brought her back from the brink and the gift 
that the child willingly did depart
Not the Guardian Angel, but the Love from her heart.

This is a true story, though it didn't happen to me
When my lil Sis told it, I just felt such glee that I wanted to share
 it because it needs to be told what an adult can learn
 from an eight year old.

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Dec 16th - The Spirit of Christmas

Today's Inspiring Greeting

THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

"Daddy", the child said, her eyes full of tears,
"Will you talk to me and quiet my fears?
Those bad boys at school are spreading a lie
And saying that reindeer can't possibly fly!"

"There's no Santa Claus, they say with a grin,
There's not one now and there never has been!
How can one man take all of those toys
To thousands and thousands of good girls and boys?"

"But I told them, Daddy, that they were not right,
And that I would come home and find out tonight.
Mama said wait until you come home,
So please tell me now that I was not wrong."

Her Daddy looked at her questioning face
And puffed his pipe while his frantic mind raced.
He had put this off as long as he could,
He had to think fast and it better be good!

Whispering a prayer, he began with a smile,
"Well climb on my lap, dear, let's talk a while.
"Remember at church how we learned to pray,
Asking God to take care of us every day?"

"And you know how we say Grace before each meal,
To this same God whom we know to be real?
Though we never see Him, we know He is there
Watching His children with such loving care."

"God started Christmas a long time ago
When He gave us His Son to love and to know.
A spirit of giving came with that birth,
And God's generosity filled the whole earth."

"Man had to name this spirit of giving
Just as he names all things that are living.
The name Santa Claus came to someone's mind,
As good a name as any to find."

"There is, you can see, and I think it's quite clear,
Truly a Santa who visits each year.
A spirit,  like God, whom we never see,
He enters the hearts of your mother and me."

"Each year at Christmas for one special night,
We become him and make everything right.
But the real spirit of Christmas is in you and in me,
And I hope you are old enough now to see
That as we believe and continue to give,
Our friend Santa Claus will continue to live!"

Author Unknown

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Dec. 15th - Here In A Flash

Today's Inspiring Greeting

HERE IN A FLASH

They lived in a modest house about eighty years old. It had been her husband's parents' home. He had lived in it as a child. It was a tiny house but unique and quaint. This being their first Christmas in a house, they decorated the porch with many lights. There were two little pillars holding up the porch roof and her husband wrapped them in lights like candy canes. They could never really figure out why that little house was so extremely beautiful with it's Christmas decorations up, it just was. They were just normal twinkle lights around the windows and the eves, but Jesus had kissed that house and it was so pretty.

Their tree shown bright in the window, again, just a modest tree, but somehow so much more attractive than it had reason to be, if you really looked at it. So she thought it must just be her opinion. She puzzled at this one night as she sat in the front room on an old wooden chair. The room was too small to hold a normal size sofa so they had a desk and hutch in that room to use it as a den and their tree so it could be seen from the street.

Her husband had mentioned on a few occasions a young man that would walk down the street to the bus stop. He was handicapped. He described how difficult it was for him to get where he was going and how determined he seemed. She had never seen him and was ashamed to admit, never gave it much thought.

As her husband worked at night and she was alone, she often found herself sitting on that old desk chair looking at the Christmas tree. All the lights in the house were out except the twinkling lights of their holiday season when she noticed someone was walking down the street. She looked in wonder as she tried to figure out what he was doing. Her mind went through a myriad of explanations for his behavior. At first she thought he had been drinking, as he seemed a bit unsteady, this person ambling toward her house on the other side of the narrow street. His arms flayed back and forth, his legs in unsure motion.

She thought to turn off the Christmas lights so she could gain a better look, but didn't. Then he seemed to throw himself to his knees. The property just across from them was a church with a small yard. She thought my goodness; he is very stressed out and is fallen in the churchyard to pray. She again thought to turn off the lights so she could gain greater access to the window, unnoticed and further survey this unfolding sight... but again for some reason she didn't, even though she still looked out the window.

Then, with great effort, he raised himself and began to approach the curb facing her home. It had not occurred to her who this person was or what his situation might be. She still believed him to be in great stress or perhaps drinking?

Now he was standing on the curb looking at her house. She ducked behind the tree, peeking around the branches. My goodness why is he focusing on my house? What is this person doing? Her hand reached for the light plug, but she pulled it back. Now he reached in his pocket and removed something. What is it? He fell again to his knees.

What is his problem? What is he doing? She thought of how painful that must be on his knees and why he was engaging in this self-torture. He then took the object and swung it around a couple of times and, with seemingly great effort, raised the object to his face pointing it toward the house. She stared intently does he have a gun? Her mind raced. Is he going to... then before she could process another thought, FLASH! a light bulb went off.

He was trying to take a picture of her modest little home. Her heart sank, as she watched him twist to regain his stance and make his way back down the road. She finally made the connection and realized he was the person her husband had mentioned. Tears came to her eyes when she thought of how horrible it would have been if she had turned off the lights after he went though such effort. She would have never known what he was doing and just thought him strange.

She never met the person who agreed that her house had indeed been kissed by Jesus, but she learned more from him than she thinks she could express with words. The most profound is the fact that our Savior will come in a flash. How many will he find on their knees? How horrible it would be if we have turned off our lights, our hearts, after he went through such effort. We would never know what beautiful things he's doing.

Is that the reason for so many flashing lights at Christmas time?
To remind us?

Though she never saw him again, she knows she will, for she believes anyone with that much spunk surely knows the Lord. Yes, she'll see him again in the place where we won't have to struggle any more just to get the simplest of things done. Where God will wipe away all tears and everything will be kissed by God and as pretty as that little house.