by Christine Walker
For most people, Christmas is a time of rejoicing and of goodwill to all men, but as Christmas of 1952 approached, I was feeling the lowest I had ever felt. My marriage had just fallen apart and I was left a single mother with two kids: Jason, nine years old, and little Francis, who was just five. My ex-husband wasn't faithful with his alimony and child support payments, so I was forced to find work and get a babysitter to help with the children after school. I missed them a lot, as I had always been there for them before, but in this situation we found ourselves in, there wasn't much else we could do.
At the time we also had to move into a poorer neighborhood, because we couldn't afford to continue paying the high rent for our previous apartment in the nicer part of town. It felt like one bad thing after another was happening to me, and I couldn't see a way out.
I would come back from work and pick up the kids, arrive home late with just enough time to cook them a meal, tuck them into bed, and say their prayers with them. In our prayers, we always held onto the hope that things would get better.
Christmas was just around the corner. With the small salary I made, I had saved up enough to get presents for the children, and a few of the special treats that make Christmas what it is. Or so I thought!
We had already set up the Christmas tree in our house, and the decorations and lights, sparse though they were, would still get oohs and aahs of admiration from my children. Now all that was left was for the presents to be placed under the tree, and the children were looking forward to this with great anticipation.
On the morning of the 23rd, the last day of work before the Christmas holidays, I left home early, dropped the children off at my parents', and went on my way. With all that was on my mind, I was a bit oblivious to the world around me, and I hadn't noticed the car in front of me had slowed down and was signaling his intent to make a left turn. Before I had time to slam on the brakes, I'd rear-ended him.
Great! I thought. Just what I needed! It wasn't such a bad accident, and my insurance would pay for the damage to his car, but it wouldn't cover the cost of repairs for my car and my rates would go up. I was mad at myself! Now I probably wouldn't be able to afford to get any extras that I knew the children were hoping for. So much for my Christmas shopping! I murmured.
The day passed slowly, and by the time work had ended, it was all I could do to drag myself out of the office and pick up the children. That night Jason offered to say the prayers. "Jesus, we pray for Your blessings on us at this time of Christmas" and then he went on into the Lord's Prayer. Just when he finished, as if he'd had an afterthought, he added, "And Lord, we know that You will supply all of our needs, and I would really want that sled that I saw in the store window today, so if You could do that for me, I would be very happy. And please supply all of the rest of the things that we need too. Amen!"
Francis, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity of adding his request, chimed in. "And I would really like one of those toy trucks, like my friend Richard has. Amen."
As I got into bed, I questioned the Lord. I was beginning to feel bitter about the hand in life He had dealt me. Why? I began to brood. Why now? Why at this time of Christmas, which is meant to be a joyful season and one of remembering when You came to Earth for us? "Lord," I whispered, "please don't disappoint Your children's faith in You."
I awoke with the sunrise, feeling much more refreshed because of the restful sleep I'd had. I went about my work of fixing the children breakfast. I opened the front door to let the dog out, and noticed several boxes on my doorstep that hadn't been there before. Surprised, I quickly opened one, and to my surprise found a sled just like the one Jason had prayed for. In one box were clothes and warm jackets, and in another were food staples, groceries, and even a few special treats.
I felt overjoyed, and so grateful for whoever the angel was that had brought these here. I opened the last box and found toys and playthings for the children including a truck that was almost exactly identical to my son's friend Richard's model.
Tears came to my eyes. Not knowing who the angel who had done this was, all I could say was, "Thank You! Thank You!" I still found it odd that someone could have known exactly what we needed and when we needed it. The children excitedly joined me in looking through the boxes. Jason was beside himself with delight to get the sled and also for the recent snowfall, so he wanted to go to the park to try the sled out right away. So we all went together with hearts overwhelmed by joy!
My sons were having the time of their lives as they took turns sledding down the hill, building jump ramps, and playing around in the snow, while I watched and cheered. Then I noticed a man sitting on the bench beside mine. He looked friendly, so I introduced myself, and found out that his name was Melvin Brown.
"I came here to take my son to the park," he said, "as he wanted to try out the new sled he got for Christmas. It was quite the amazing thing that happened last night, but he was hoping for a sled and I wasn't able to get him one. But this morning when I opened my door, I found a box containing the sled he had hoped for!" We eventually realized that a local church charity had gone around to the schools in this poorer area of town, and had asked the children what they wanted for Christmas, and then had delivered the gifts.
"But how did they know about the other things we needed?" I asked. "I found boxes with groceries and food and clothes in them!"
"I don't know," said Melvin. "Maybe that part was from somebody else?"
"But who?" I asked.
"I have no idea. Probably the Christmas Angel!" he said half-jokingly.
My son Jason's prayer rang through in my mind, And please supply all of the rest of things that we need. Amen! A smile broke out on my face. "Of course. The Christmas Angel! Who else?" Then I started thinking about how Jesus came down on the first Christmas and was our Angel of mercy and love. My mind continued on in this train of thought as we watched our boys play together, each of them so happy and joyful. It was the best Christmas I could remember, because each of us carried the spirit of Christmas.
Times got better and I was able to find a well-paying job and move back into a better neighborhood. Also, Melvin and I had taken a liking to each other. I found out that he was a widower and single father, and my heart went out to him. One thing led to another, and in the fall of 1953 we were engaged and then married. Melvin's business took an upward turn, and things were starting to look up for us in more ways than one.
Looking back now, I always crack a smile, and think about how perfectly the Lord set everything up how He made me get to the end of my rope so that I had to cry out to Him to save me. And how He healed the bitterness I had in my heart towards Him and replaced it with gratitude and thankfulness.
Each Christmas, as I look at the angel atop the tree, I think back about the "miracle of the Christmas Angel," as we affectionately termed it, and it makes me remember how Jesus, the first "Christmas Angel," came to give His life for us, and to save us from our sins and teach us how to live in love. And with each passing Christmas, the angel on top of the tree continues to shine down on us, reminding us of Jesus' love and the miracles He does for each one of us, His children.
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