SATURDAY MY SWEET HUBBY AND I MADE OUR EVERY OTHER DAYTRIP TO HENNESSEY TO SEE OUR BUTTERFLY'S RESTING PLACE.
I THOUGHT ABOUT ALL THE LOVE SHE HAD TO GIVE TO SO MANY
PEOPLE. I CRIED FOR ALL THE THINGS SHE NEVER WAS ABLE TO
DO IN HER YOUNG LIFE AND I WAS SO HAPPY FOR ALL THE THINGS
SHE WAS ABLE TO DO.
REALITY HIT ME. IT WAS LIKE WHAT WAS LEFT OF MY HEART
SHATTERED AND FELL PIECE BY PIECE UPON THE FRESH DIRT.
I HAD THE URGE TO RUN BUT THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN
UGLY SITE......SAGGY BOOBS SLAPPING MY EARS AND MY BUTT
TRYING TO PASS ME.....LOL
I DECIDED ON A LESS TAXING ADVENTURE.
MY HUBBY AND I WENT TO A THRIFT SHOP.
I LOVE DIGGING THROUGH THE BOOKS AND ART.
I FOUND SOME AWESOME BOOKS.
ONE IS CALLED:
A COUNTRY SAMPLER
OF SIMPLE BLESSINGS.
A COLLECTION OF
HOMESPUN STORIES
AND PAINTINGS CELEBRATING
THE EVERYDAY MOMENTS OF LIFE
BY~ELLEN STOUFFER
WITH PEG CARMACK SHORT
BELOW I HAVE INCLUDED ONE OF THE STORIES
FROM HER DELIGHTFUL BOOK
IN THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS
I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE STORY AS MUCH AS I DID.
MY HUSBAND SCANNED THE TWO PICTURES FROM THE BOOK
AND I ADDED A PICTURE OF A LITTLE GIRL THAT CAME TO
MY MIND AS I WAS READING THE STORY
GO GET YOURSELF A CUP OF TEA AND EMBRACE THE SEASON
GLORY TO GOD IN THE HIGHEST, AND ON EARTH PEACE,
GOOD WILL TOWARD MEN
LUKE 2:14
I HAVE GONE THERE OFTEN IN MEMORY----THE ROOM
SHIMMERING IN THE GLOW OF FLICKERING CANDLES
AND TWINKLING CHRISTMAS-TREE LIGHTS, HUSHED
AND STILL.
MY MOTHER SITS IN THE CENTER OF A CIRCLE OF WOMEN,
MEMBERS OF HER SUNDAY SCHOOL CLASS WHO HAVE
GATHERED AT OUR HOUSE THIS EVENING FOR THEIR
ANNUAL CHRISTMAS PARTY. WITH HER SWEET SMILE AND
STRAWBERRY-BLOND CURLS, MOTHER LOOKS LIKE AN ANGEL
TO ME. EVEN AS YOUNG AS I AM, I UNDERSTAND THERE IS A
POWER IN HER PRESENCE AS SHE SPEAKS. HER VOICE STARTS
OFF SOFTLY AS SHE BEGINS TO RECITE AN OLD POEM,
"THE BEGGAR AND THE STAR",
BY VIVIAN LARAMORE RADER.
There came to my door a beggar,
In the dim December light,
To ask for a crust and a corner
Where he might stay for the night.
My house was already crowded
My food, a meager store;
So I said, "I'm very sorry,
But you'll have to ask next door."
MOTHER'S VOICE RISES AND FALLS DRAMATICALLY.
SHE GREW UP MEMORIZING POEMS, AND HER RECITATIONS
ARE AN EXPECTED AND LOVED PART OF OUR FAMILY LIFE.
I'VE INHERITED HER PASSION FOR BEAUTIFUL WORDS AND
SPELLBINDING IMAGERY. AS I LISTENED TO THE POEM, I
CAN'T IMAGINE MY MOTHER TURNING AWAY ANYONE WHO
WAS NEEDY. "IT'S MORE BLESSED TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE,"
SHE OFTEN REMINDS MY SISTER AND ME.
MOTHER BELIEVES DEEPLY IN THE GIVING OF CHRISTMAS. ONE
HAS ONLY TO LOOK AROUND THE ROOM TO SEE SHE HAS TAKEN
GREAT CARE TO MAKE EVERYTHING PERFECT FOR HER GUESTS
TONIGHT. FOR WEEKS SHE HAS POLISHED AND CLEANED, COOKED
AND BAKED, AND SPENT MANY HOURS PREPARING LITTLE GIFTS
FOR EACH GUEST. THEY WILL DINE ON FINE CHINA, EAT WITH
GLEAMING SILVER, AND DRINK FROM CRYSTAL GOBLETS.
WE ARE NOT A WEALTHY FAMILY, BUT MY MOTHER EXTENDS
THE BEST SHE HAS TO VISITORS.
MY THOUGHTS RETURN TO THE POEM, AS THE NARRATOR
CONTINUES TALKING TO THE BEGGAR AT HER DOOR:
". . . I can bring you tea I've
been saving
For a special guest."
He looked at me for a moment,
"Not dressed as I am dressed?"
"Oh, no," I said, "to be honest,
I've never liked beggars much,
They've always seemed unworthy,
Unclean in thought and touch."
THE WORDS REMIND ME OF THE SUNDAY WE WENT TO
ST. LOUIS AND MET A BEGGAR ON THE STREET. HE WAS
ASKING FOR COINS AND SAID HE WAS HUNGRY. INSTEAD OF
GIVING HIM MONEY, MY FATHER INVITED HIM INTO THE
RESTAURANT WHERE WE WERE GOING AND TOLD HIM HE
WOULD PAY FOR HIS MEAL. AS WE ENTERED THE RESTAURANT
IN OUR CHURCH FINERY, ACCOMPANIED BY A DIRTY, RAGGED
BEGGAR, SOME PEOPLE LOOKED AT US CURIOUSLY. OTHERS
EYED US WITH CONTEMPT. BUT MY DAD TREATED THE BEGGAR
WITH POLITENESS AND RESPECT, AND DADDY'S DEMEANOR
CONVEYED TO THE RESTAURANT STAFF THAT THEY WERE TO
DO THE SAME. THE BEGGAR DECLINED TO SIT WITH US,
CHOOSING INSTEAD A BACK CORNER TABLE WHERE HE CONSUMED
HUGE AMOUNTS OF FOOD. WHEN HE HAD EATEN, HE NODDED
QUICKLY TO MY DAD AS HE STARTED TO LEAVE. BUT DADDY
WALKED OVER AND EXTENDED HIS HAND TO THE MAN.
THE BEGGAR TOOK IT WITH HIS RIGHT HAND AND COVERED
IT IN A WARM CLASP WITH HIS LEFT. THEN HE SEEMED TO GROW
TALLER, STRAIGHTENING HIS BACK, AS HE WALKED FROM THE
RESTAURANT WITH GREAT DIGNITY.
And I saw that his rags were glowing
Like garments of finest gold,
and his face was young as tomorrow,
Though I knew that the man was old . . .
And I thought of the homeless thousands
Who trudge the world today,
And I said, "Forgive me, Master,
I'm begging you to stay."
BY THE TIME MOTHER REACHES THIS POINT IN THE
POEM, IT IS OBVIOUS TO THE WOMEN FROM HER SUNDAY
SCHOOL CLASS, AND TO ME, THAT THIS POEM IS AN ALLEGORY--
THE BEGGAR REPRESENTS CHRIST, AND THE NARRATOR REPRESENTS
THE WORLD THAT HAS NO ROOM FOR HIM IN ITS HEART. THE
POEM IS MOTHER'S WAY OF REMINDING US THAT THE TRUE
SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS IS LOVE.
THAT POEM MOVED ME DEEPLY AS A CHILD, BUT IT WASN'T
UNTIL I WAS AN ADULT THAT THE MESSAGE OF THE POEM
CAME TO LIFE FOR ME. IN ADDITION TO MANAGING A HOME
AND RAISING THREE YOUNG CHILDREN, I HAD RECENTLY
RETURNED TO WORK. THAT YEAR THE THOUGHT OF THE
APPROACHING HOLIDAYS FILLED ME WITH DREAD INSTEAD
OF MY USUAL JOY. ALL I COULD THINK OF WERE THE EXTRAS
THE SEASON SEEMED TO CALL FOR----SPENDING MONEY, SHOPPING,
BAKING, WRITING CARDS, AND DECORATING. I COULDN'T SEE
HOW I WAS GOING TO GET EVERY THING DONE IN TIME---
IT FELT AS IF THE ONLY VERSE OF THE CHRISTMAS STORY
I COULD RELATE TO WAS, "AND THEY CAME WITH HASTE. . ."
I NEITHER NOTICED NOR THOUGHT ABOUT THE "homeless
thousands." I RESENTED THE BELL RINGERS ON STREET CORNERS
AND THE CHARITABLE REQUESTS THAT CROWDED MY MAILBOX---
THEY ONLY ADDED TO THE PRESSURE I ALREADY FELT.
THREE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, MOTHER CALLED TO ASK FOR
MY HELP. SHE'D JUST HEARD OF A FAMILY WHO'D LOST EVERY-
THING IN A HOUSE FIRE. THE HOUSEHOLD INCLUDED A FATHER
AND TWO LITTLE GIRLS. ACCORDING TO THE INFORMATION
MOTHER HAD, THE MOTHER OF THIS FAMILY HAD DIED
EARLIER THAT YEAR FROM CANCER.
MOTHER SAID SHE COULD BUY THE GROCERIES, BUT SHE
WONDERED IF I WOULD SHOP FOR THE LITTLE GIRLS. I WAS
SO FAR BEHIND WITH MY OWN SHOPPING AND PREPARATION,
THAT I REALLY WANTED TO SAY I WAS MUCH TOO BUSY, BUT
I JUST COULDN'T SAY NO TO HER. THEN SHE ASKED IF I WOULD
HELP HER WRAP AND DELIVER THESE GIFTS OF THE MORNING
OF CHRISTMAS EVE. GRUDGINGLY, I AGREED.
WHEN WE ARRIVED AT THE FAMILY'S APARTMENT THAT
MORNING, IT WAS SMALL AND DREARY, AND THE FATHER
SEEMED LISTLESS AND SAD. THERE WAS NO SIGN OF THE
HOLIDAY----NOT EVEN A TINY TREE. ONE OF THE CHILDREN
WAS JUST A BABY, AND THE OTHER LITTLE GIRL, WHOSE
NAME WAS ALICE, WAS FIVE.
AS SOON AS I SAW HER, I REGRETTED MY HASTY SHOPPING.
SHE WELCOMED US WITH A SWEET SMILE, AND HER EYES WERE
WIDE WITH EXCITEMENT AS SHE NOTICED THE GIFT-WRAPPED PRESENTS ALONG
WITH THE BASKET OF FOOD.
"DID YOU BRING SOMETHING FOR MY SISTER?" SHE ASKED ME.
"YES," I TOLD HER. "AND SOMETHING FOR YOU TOO."
"WHAT ABOUT MY DADDY?" SHE WHISPERED. "MOMMY ALWAYS TOOK
ME TO BUY A PRESENT FOR HIM. BUT SHE'S UP IN HEAVEN NOW WITH
THE ANGELS."
I WAS EMBARRASSED, AS I'D ONLY BOUGHT GIFTS FOR THE CHILDREN.
"I'M SORRY SWEETHEART," I SAID. "I DON'T HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOUR
DADDY OTHER THAN THE BASKET OF FOOD."
SHE CONSIDERED THAT FOR A MOMENT AND THEN ASKED, "DO
YOU THINK MAYBE YOU COULD TAKE BACK MY GIFT AND GET SOME-
THING FOR DADDY? HE'S BEEN AWFULLY SAD WITH MOMMY GONE,
AND I'D LIKE TO SEE HIM SMILE."
IT WAS ALL I COULD DO TO KEEP MY TEARS FROM FALLING AS I
PROMISED I'D BE BACK WITH A GIFT FOR HER DAD. MOTHER DIDN'T
EVEN QUESTION ME WHEN I ASKED IF SHE HAD TIME TO GO WITH ME
TO THE LOCAL SHOPPING CENTER.
NOT ONLY DID WE BUY ALICE'S FATHER THE WARM GLOVES SHEHAD REQUESTED FOR HIM, BUT ALSO A SCARF AND A CAP. I
PICKED UP SEVERAL MORE SURPRISES FOR THE CHILDREN.
THEN I ASKED MOTHER WHAT SHE THOUGHT ABOUT BUYING A LITTLE
TREE. WE PRAYED WE WEREN'T PRESUMING TOO MUCH, THEN WENT
AHEAD AND BOUGHT THE TREE, LIGHTS, AND ORNAMENTS TO
DECORATE IT.
INSTEAD OF RESENTING OUR SECOND INTRUSION, THE FATHER CRIED
WHEN HE SAW THE CHRISTMAS TREE. "I WANTED TO GET ONE," HE SAID.
"BUT WITH ALL THE THINGS WE NEEDED AFTER THE FIRE . . . HIS VOICE
TRAILED OFF.
THAT AFTERNOON, MOTHER AND I PUT ASIDE OUR OWN HOLIDAY
PREPARATIONS AS WE HELPED THE LITTLE GIRL AND HER DAD DECORATE
THEIR TREE. AS WE WORKED, WE SANG CHRISTMAS CAROLS. AFTER WE
FINISHED THE TREE, MOTHER HAD A CUP OF TEA AND CHATTED WITH
ALICE'S FATHER WHILE ALICE AND I SLIPPED OFF TO HER BEDROOM TO
WRAP HER GIFTS AND MAKE A CARD FOR HER DAD.
WHEN WE LEFT THAT DAY, I TURNED BACK TO SEE ALICE LOOKING
UP AT HER DAD AND HIM SMILING DOWN AT HER. THEN I LOOKED
AT MOTHER, WHO WAS SMILING AND WATCHING ME. SUDDENLY I
FELT AS IF A HUGE WEIGHT HAD BEEN LIFTED FROM MY CHEST, AND
FOR THE FIRST TIME THAT CHRISTMAS SEASON, I HAD A HAPPY
HEART.
And I felt a soaring gladness
No language can impart,
For Love itself lay cradled
In the manger of my heart.
And a thousand bells were ringing
From a thousand towers tall
Glory to God in the highest!
And peace be unto all.
DOESN'T THAT STORY JUST MELT YOUR CHOCOLATE.THANK YOU FOR SHARING A STORY WITH ME FROM MY NEW BOOK.
THE PRICE OF THAT JOY WAS BOUGHT FOR .75 CENTS AND IT IS A
HARD BACK BOOK.
I PRAY EVERYONE OF YOU HAVE A WARM AND FUZZY DAY.
SO VERY MANY PEOPLE ARE IN NEED OF PRAYER. I PRAY ESPECIALLY
FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE LOYAL TO FOLLOW MY BLOG AND HAVE
BEEN THERE TO SUPPORT ME AND MY FAMILY THROUGH THIS VERY
DIFFICULT TIME. YOU ARE SO PRECIOUS AND DEAR TO ME.
BLESSINGS
MAY WE ALL REMEMBER THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS
THIS YEAR AND KEEP JESUS THE HEAD OF IT.
ANGEL HUGS
