This was sent to me on Christmas Eve, by some one on the group. I'll not
give out the identity because I do not have Permission and it's LONG.

It is worth the read; Please read it. It makes me very proud of ASA and
the people who make it what it is;
------------------------------------------------
Christmas As It Should Be:
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 sideboards 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, though 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.




























http://community.webtv.net/tassail/ILLDRINKTOTHAT

"Thom Stewart" wrote
This was sent to me on Christmas Eve, by some one on the group. I'll not
give out the identity because I do not have Permission and it's LONG.


Good on you, Tom for not giving the ID. It would only embarrass whoever it was.
That story is stupid. It never once mentions Jesus Christ. He's what Christmas is all
about not some hillbilly fantasy.....

Cheers,
Ellen

Nellen,

I suggest, if Christ is that important to you, You learn how his
Birthday became Dec. 25.

It was by decree of a Pagan Ruler (Constantan) who was a Sun worshiper.
He decided Dec 25 because that was the birthday of Mitha a Sun God.

Jesus's birthday was set 365 years after his death. It was Necine Conf.
decision. When the representatives (Bishops) couldn't decide they left
it up to Constantan, the Roman Ruler, who called for the conference.

It really doesn't matter. What matters is the teachings of Christ. Love!
Love thy God, Love thy Neighbor as thyself!




























http://community.webtv.net/tassail/ILLDRINKTOTHAT

"Thom Stewart" wrote
I suggest, if Christ is that important to you, You learn how his
Birthday became Dec. 25.


None of that matters, Tom, even if we celebrate His birthday on a different day than
when he was born. It's understanding the meaning of His life we celebrate - not the day
He was born. A day is just a day....

Cheers,
Ellen

Nellen,

It was you, that was making such a big deal as such a very special day.
No one else. You!

So, Now, there is something else decided by that same Pagan Ruler at
that meeting. Was Jesus a God when he lived as a man or not??

By the way, I agree with you, his teaching were worth basing a life's
Faith on.

However, I'd suggest you gain a little more knowledge of Christian
History before you pass judgement on others.

Ole Thom

Thom Stewart wrote:
This was sent to me on Christmas Eve, by some one on the group. I'll not
give out the identity because I do not have Permission and it's LONG.


What, their identity? How long can it be??

It is worth the read; Please read it. It makes me very proud of ASA and
the people who make it what it is;
------------------------------------------------
Christmas As It Should Be: (snip for brevity)

Well it's a good story, but a better ending would be if the widow had
given the boy her husband's old rifle as a gift. After all, she didn't
need it any more and that would have been a happy ending for all.

-signed- Injun Ear (formerly known as Eagle Eye)