Christmas Miracle

By Laurie Emerson

29 years ago I was a young wife of a year, we did not have much as my husband was a new Airman in the Air Force and the pay then was low to say the least. I had married my childhood sweetheart and thought myself the luckiest person in the world. To add to my joy, I had just found out I was pregnant and was on cloud nine. I cooked a special dinner and bought candles to create the perfect evening for myself and the man I so much loved. I watched the clock slowly tick away the minutes till he walked in the door. The minute he walked in the door I knew something was wrong as his face was chalk white. He told me in a voice of tears that he just received orders to Vietnam and would be leaving within a month. To this day, I still remember the way I felt. My heart sank and I felt as if my world had come to an end. I remember we cried in each other’s arms for hours and when we stopped I told him about the baby. You could see the happiness, pride and fear as heard the words.

I remember taking him to the Airport and him bravely and sadly waving goodbye from the airplane window. I tried to be so brave but after I got in the car, I broke into tears which I thought would never end. We were stationed in Kansas and far from home as our family was in New Hampshire, where we were from. They tried so hard to get me to come home until he came back, but I wanted to show everyone I could be independent, so I stayed.

I wrote him every day and he wrote back. I stopped watching the news as it also had something about the war. I did not sleep much at night as I feared a knock on the door in the early hours of an already too long day.

I had a little girl with the prettiest red hair and bluest eyes. She looked exactly like her dad and I held her close promising that her dad would come home one day and we could all be a family once again. We were each other’s comfort and joy and as I rocked her each night, I sang to her and prayed to the Good Lord to watch over my husband and keep him safe. Time slowly went by and before I knew it, it was Christmas. I admit that I just could not get into the Christmas spirit. I always loved this day, as my family celebrated it with such joy when I was growing up. We had all the tree, trimmings, but most of all we celebrated the birth of Jesus. I tried to hang onto that, but when my daughter and I would go out, it seemed like families everywhere were smiling but most of all together. I would quietly return home. I was not going to have a tree, but my mom told me on the phone, that I should at least have a little one for my daughter, and to not forget just what Christmas really was about. I felt so ashamed as I realized that God had given me a husband I cherished and a daughter I adored.

On Christmas Eve, I turned on the tree lights and our daughters eyes shone with glee and amazement. I still felt bad but she made me feel hopeful. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and I held my breath afraid to answer. After a few more knocks, I finally summoned the courage to answer. I opened the door and there was someone dressed as Santa. In front of his face was a big bouquet of flowers and what looked like dozens of balloons. "HO HO HO", he said, "I heard that someone here could use a little cheering up." Just as I admit I was ready to close the door on the person, the flowers came down and there was the most beautiful face I had ever seen. My husband, my best friend and the love of my life. He had been discharged early due to a non-life threatening injury. All the other family knew, but he asked them to keep it quiet so he could surprise me. We took each other’s hand and I introduced him to his daughter. They fell in love with each other.

That was almost 30 years, five children, two daughters in law, one son in law, and one granddaughter ago. I will never forget that night of miracles and the Lord who gave me a gift on his birthday.

Mom’s Christmas Surprise

By Lindi Anderson

The Christmas season had just begun, and the little drugstore was almost dancing with decorations. Mom stopped to admire a porcelain nativity set on the store’s glass counter. “Isn’t it beautiful, Lindi?” Mom asked. She had wanted a nativity set for a long time, and this one gleamed softly as if someone had brushed each figure with Christmas magic.

After Mom walked away, I studied the delicate pastel pieces. Mary and Joseph gazed down at baby Jesus while shepherds, Wise Men, and angels watched. It was just what Mom had always wanted. Excited, I looked at the price tag, but a tight knot formed in my stomach. Fifty dollars! How could I ever come up with that much money?

As we walked home under a gray winter sky, I remembered the sparkle in Mom’s eye as she held the baby Jesus figure. She deserved to have that nativity set! She had been a single mom since the divorce, and she didn’t buy things for herself very often.

I kicked the snowdrifts as I formed a plan. I had steady babysitting jobs, and I could ask my older brother Ryan to help earn money. I wouldn’t even need all the money at once—I could put the set on layaway and pay for it a little at a time. Maybe Mom could get her nativity set after all!

At home, I told Ryan my idea. He agreed to help, and we eagerly gathered all the money we had: five dollars. It was just enough to put the nativity set on layaway.

The next day I sprinted to the drugstore, afraid that someone had already bought my treasure. I pulled open the door, and my eyes raced to the glass counter in search of the set. It was still there! Relief flooded over me as the clerk took the precious nativity set to the back room until Ryan and I could pay the full price.

As Christmas grew closer, all Ryan and I could think about was Mom’s special gift. Little by little, our earnings added up until we finally made our last payment. We brought the set home, wrapped it, and hid it under my bed. It would be a Christmas surprise!

On Christmas Eve, Ryan and I kept exchanging glances, hardly able to contain our secret. I went to bed more excited about our gift than I was about the presents I might get.

The next morning, I couldn't even pay attention to my presents. I just kept looking forward to the moment when we would bring out Mom's surprise. When all the gifts from under the tree were opened, Ryan looked at me and nodded. "Hold on, Mom," he said. "I think we forgot one."

I grabbed the present from my room and set it on Mom’s lap.

“Open it!” Ryan and I exclaimed.

Slowly, Mom tore off the bow and peeled back the wrapping paper. She gasped as she lifted out the baby Jesus figure and cradled it in her palm. “Thank you,” she whispered.

As I watched Mom's face glow with joy, I realized that Ryan and I got the best gift that year. Mom's nativity set was beautiful, but we had learned to forget ourselves and think of others-truly a gift to remember.

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The Year of the Dark Christmas

By Cindy Wright

My favorite personal Christmas Story is the year we had a dark Christmas. At the time I would have never thought that Christmas would become my most cherished holiday experience. It was Friday, December 22, 2000. I had just gotten up when there was a knock on my door. I have to go back a little bit. My brother had rented the house with us, and the electric was in his name. When he moved out a couple weeks before to go back to his wife, he had said that we could keep the electric in his name until after Christmas and then transfer it to our name.

What I did not know is that he had changed his mind, and he said nothing to us. So someone was knocking on my door, and when I went to the door it was the electric man. He informed me that my brother had called and wanted the electric out his name immediately. The man told me if I had $100, I could have it switched to my name and the electric would stay on. I had just spent all of our money the night before on Christmas gifts. He said they had tried to talk my brother into waiting until after Christmas to make sure I had money to switch the electric into my name, but my brother had refused to wait. He said I could call my brother and ask him to wait. If my brother said that he would wait, then the electric could be left on until January 2^nd. I tried to call my brother and got no answer. The electric man informed me even though he hated to do it with the holidays, he had to shut off the electric since I had no money.

Here it was just a few days before Christmas, and even if I got the money, no one would be around to turn my electric back on in time for Christmas. I was devastated. Here I had done everything making sure my kids had a great Christmas and had all the food I needed for a great Christmas dinner. But how were we going to pull off a good Christmas with no lights and no way to cook? I had decorated my house all up on the outside too and felt horrible that those lights would not be lit for Christmas.

Luckily we used a wood stove so we had heat. Our wood stove was in the basement, but with no electric to run the fan, we would have to sleep in the basement. I cried for at least an hour feeling that Christmas was ruined. Luckily we could cook on our wood stove and we had a Coleman gas camp stove. But how would I fix turkey with that?

Christmas turned out much better than we expected, and it is now the one that my husband and I, as well as my kids, cherish the most. I let the kids open their gifts on Saturday night. Since we had no TV or anything, I figured I might as well let them play with their Christmas gifts. That year we had bought each one of them personal stereos that took electric or batteries and we had bought lots of batteries. I had also bought a treasure trunk and filled it with board games, puzzles and coloring books. Little did I know how much use those games were going to get used when I bought them.

We played Monopoly, Candy Land, and Trouble and colored in coloring books all evening with the kids by candle light as we listened to their stereos. We spent lots of quality time together as a family over that weekend and Christmas Day. Sunday night I put my turkey in the roasting pan. I put all kinds of butter on it and poured some Pepsi in the pan and covered it tightly with aluminum foil. My husband filled the wood stove with wood and had it burn slowly. The turkey cooked all night and around 2:00 p.m. on Christmas Day, the turkey was ready. I used the camp stove to fix instant potatoes, gravy, and corn. My sister had brought us some homemade potato salad the day before. She invited us to come to her house for dinner, but I was determined to make Christmas a good one in our own home. We sat in the basement at the dining room table that I had my husband bring down stairs. We were nice and warm and the food was delicious. We spent a lot of quality time with our kids.

It was the best Christmas ever. We didn't need the electric to have a good Christmas after all. We had our own Country Christmas. Now every year on Christmas Eve we turn off the TV's and the lights and we light the candles and sit around playing games. Of course now the kids insist on Play Station, but we still spend a few hours enjoying just being a family.

I have since forgiven my brother, but the year of the dark Christmas turned out to be the best thing for my family. After all, Christmas is supposed to be about love and family, and that year my family shared lots of love and great times.

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The Most Beautiful Thing

Author Unknown

The sides of the path were covered with rugs of white snow. But in the center, its whiteness was crushed and churned into a foaming brown by the tramp, tramp of hundreds of hurrying feet. It was the day before Christmas.

People rushed up and down the path carrying arm loads of bundles. They laughed and called to each other as they pushed their way through the crowds.

Above the path, the long arms of an ancient tree reached upward to the sky. It swayed and moaned as a strong wind grasped its branches, and bent them toward the earth. Down below a haughty laugh sounded, and a lovely fir tree stretched and preened its thick green branches, sending a fine spray of snow shimmering downward to the ground.

"I should think," said the fir, in a high smug voice, "that you'd try a little harder to stand still. Goodness knows you're ugly enough with the leaves you've already lost. If you move around anymore, you'll soon be quite bare."

"I know," answered the old tree. "Everything has put on its most beautiful clothes for the celebration of the birth of Christ. Even from here I can see the decorations shining from each street corner. And yesterday some men came and put the brightest, loveliest lights on every tree along the path--except me, of course." He sighed softly, and a flake of snow melted in the form of a teardrop and ran down his gnarled trunk.

"Oh, indeed! And did you expect they'd put lights upon you so your ugliness would stand out even more?" smirked the fir.

"I guess you're right," replied the old tree in a sad voice. "If there were only somewhere I could hide until after the celebrations are over, but here I stand... the only ugly thing among all this beauty. If they would only come and chop me down," and he sighed sorrowfully.

"Well, I don't wish you any ill will," replied the fir, "but you are an eyesore. Perhaps it would be better for us all if they came and chopped you down." Once again he stretched his lovely thick branches. "You might try to hold onto those three small leaves you still have. At least you wouldn't be completely bare."

"Oh, I've tried so hard," cried the old tree. "Each fall I say to myself, 'This year I won't give up a single leaf, no matter what the cause', but someone always comes along who seems to need them more than I," and he sighed once again.

"I told you not to give away so many to that dirty little paper boy," said the fir. "Why, you even lowered your branches a little so that he could reach them. You can't say I didn't warn you then."

"Yes, you did at that," the old tree replied. "But they made him so happy. I heard him say he would pick some for his invalid mother."

"Oh, they all had good causes," mocked the fir. "That young girl, for instance, colored leaves for her party indeed! They were your leaves!"

"She took a lot, didn't she?" said the old tree, and he seemed to smile.

Just then a cold wind blew down the path and a tiny brown bird fell to the ground at the foot of the old tree and lay there shivering, too cold to lift its wings. The old tree looked down in pity, and then quickly he let go of his last three leaves. The golden leaves fluttered down and settled softly over the shivering little bird, and it lay there quietly under the warmth of them.

"Now you've done it!" shrieked the fir. "You've given away every single leaf! Christmas morning you'll make our path the ugliest sight in the whole city!"

The old tree said nothing. Instead, he stretched out his branches to gather what snowflakes he could that they might not fall on the tiny bird.

The young fir turned away in anger, and it was then he noticed a painter sitting quietly a few feet from the path, intent upon his long brushes and his canvas. His clothes were old and tattered, and his face wore a sad expression. He was thinking of his loved ones and the empty, cheerless Christmas morning they would face, for he had not sold a single painting in the last few months.

But the little tree didn't see this. Instead, he turned back to the old tree and said in a haughty voice, at least keep those bare branches as far away from me as possible. I'm being painted and your hideousness will mar the background."

"I'll try," replied the old tree. And he raised his branches as high as possible.

It was almost dark when the painter picked up his easel and left. And the little fir was tired and cross from all his preening and posing.

Christmas morning he awoke late, and as he proudly shook away the snow from his lovely branches, he was amazed to see a huge crowd of people surrounding the old tree, ah-ing and oh-ing as they stood back and gazed upward. And even those hurrying along the path had to stop for a moment to sigh before they went on.

"Whatever could it be?" thought the haughty fir, and he too looked up to see if perhaps the top of the old tree had been broken off during the night.

Just then a paper blew away from the hands of an enraptured newsboy and sailed straight into the young fir. The fir gasped in amazement, for there on the front page was a picture of the painter holding his painting of a great white tree whose leafless branches, laden with snow, stretched upward into the sky. While below lay a tiny brown bird almost covered by three golden leaves. And beneath the picture were the words, "The Most Beautiful Thing Is That Which Hath Given All."

The young fir quietly bowed its head beneath the great beauty of the humble old tree.

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I Believe in Santa Claus

By Dr. G. Michael Saunders, Sr.

As a young Pastor in my first church I thought I would bring God's truth to all the sadly uninformed people in my church. Needless to say, I learned very quickly the difference between youth enthusiasm and spiritual arrogance. One way I learned this lesson was through the issue of Santa Claus.

I tried to be very careful not to ruin Christmas for any children in the services or to attack any parents. However for the first 3 or 4 years of my ministry at First Presbyterian Church in Enterprise, Alabama I tried to encourage my people to think correctly about Santa Claus. I tried to help them understand that there should be no lying just because it was a holiday season. Naturally, I made everyone mad every year. But I was convinced of my obligations!

Thankfully, the people of the church loved me and were always very generous to me and my children at Christmas time. We were a small church which means none of us had much money, but the people helped us so much we never really went without anything including presents at Christmas. Many years, people would come to the house with decorations, presents, and food. They were such a blessing to us and so used of God in our lives.

Well, during my fifth Christmas Day at my precious church, my convictions were completely altered. Christmas fell on a Sunday that year, so we would be having worship services that day. At 5:30 in the morning, while our family was all asleep, someone began extremely loud pounding on the side door of my house. They made a huge racket which sacred me half to death! My bedroom was on the other side of the house, and so were my children's rooms but I seemed to be the only one who heard the racket.

I jumped out of bed thinking it was an emergency. Grabbing for my glasses, I dropped them on the floor, and they slid away, and I couldn't find them. So grabbing my robe from the closet (I never wear a robe), I discovered it was three sizes too small (I hadn't put it on in years). So, with my gut hanging out (I am rather portly) and my boxers barely covered, I stumbled and tripped down the hall in the dark, holding on to the walls with one hand (because I couldn't see), trying to hold my robe together with the other hand (because it wasn't covering me very well) to the side door. I looked out the window but couldn't see anything, because I am blind without my glasses, and then I threw open the door ready to confront some terrible news or situation.

But no one was there. Instead, a huge three foot tall Christmas stocking filled with presents fell in on top of me. After taking a hit to the groin from a large Christmas wrapped box and losing my breath for several moments, I looked out the door again, but I could not see anyone nor did I hear anything.

I went to hunt for my glasses and when I finally found them, I returned to the giant stocking in my living room. On top of this beautifully decorated sack of presents for all the members of my family was a note - "Merry Christmas – Love, Santa".

Well, the children got up and we had a wonderful Christmas morning opening all the presents. We made a few inquiries as to who had left the gifts but found no one who would admit to it. After all, they were all busy having Christmas morning with their own families.

When we went to church I made more inquiries with the same results. Now, naturally, as the Pastor of a small church, all the preparations for the service fell to me and so I was very busy until I at last entered the pulpit and stood behind the podium and finally looked into the faces of my parishioners to open the service with the Call to Worship. But all of a sudden I couldn't stop smiling.

ALL the people were sitting there looking at me very attentively, with huge smiles on all their faces! Some grand conspiracy of blessing for their Pastor had taken place and the joy of what they had done filled the sanctuary in a tangible way. Though I was overwhelmed with happiness and smiling my most joyful smile, I did not know exactly what to say. And in that moment the Lord gave me an epiphany - the birth of Jesus was all about God's love for us. This Christmas, God's love had been shown to me through a huge sock full of gifts from hearts that loved God and loved me.

I realized at that moment, by God's grace, that no one was lying when they made Santa a part of their Christmas. So I looked out at the people, my dear friends, and full of their love for me, I proclaimed as joyfully as possible "OK! I believe!"

To this day, some 19 years later - when all my children are grown and now I have grand children - no one has ever confessed to giving my family those wonderful gifts. So I tell you again, when it comes to Santa - I believe!

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The Glitter Card

By Barbara Heran

"Mommy, Mommy look at the beautiful glitter card," the little girl said.

"Yes Amanda, it is a beautiful card. Would you like me to buy it for you?” asked her mother. Amanda nodded her head yes.

Amanda didn't know who to send the glitter card to. The stars were shining so bright on the card; it was as if the card was trying to tell her something. The little girl wondered what this special card was trying to say.

It was two days before Christmas when her uncle Gerard came and visited her. Amanda showed him her special glitter card and asked him if he knew what the card was trying to tell her.

"Well Amanda, I think this card is very, very special and you must decide what to do with it. You can send it to your parents, friends, aunts, uncles or can give it away to someone special," said Uncle Gerard.

Amanda didn't want to mail it to anyone, or give it away. She wanted to keep it forever. So she told her uncle that she would keep the card until it told her what to do. Her uncle laughed, patted her head, and gave her five dollars.

On Christmas Eve, Amanda went downtown to the toy store. She loved looking in the windows and she knew that Santa Claus would be giving her everything she had on her Christmas list. Standing next to her was a mother with a child. They were dressed in torn clothes that didn't look very warm. The little girl asked her mommy if Santa Claus would know they were living in their car and would he bring her a gift this year? The little girl's mommy had the saddest eyes Amanda ever saw. With a small tear falling down her face the mother told her little girl, she hoped Santa Claus wouldn't forget them.

Amanda pulled glitter card out of her pocket, looked at it and then realized what the special glitter card was telling her. Amanda reached into her other pocket, took out the five dollars Uncle Gerard had given her and handed the card and the money to the mother.

Amanda ran all the way home. She was happy she was able to help someone, but she missed her special glitter card.

Throughout her life, at Christmas time she always remembered the "special glitter card" she once had. She had told her children and grandchildren the story of her special card and how one card and $5.00 helped made a Merry Christmas for one family.

One cold Christmas Eve, Amanda was sitting alone on a park bench. A girl came over to Amanda and asked her why she was crying. Amanda told the little girl, that her husband died two years ago and her children have all moved away and she was all alone.

The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out an old tattered card and handed it to Amanda saying: "Please take this card. Many, many years ago someone gave this card and five dollars to my great-grandmother on Christmas Eve. Great Granny told me it was the best Christmas they ever had."

Amanda was shocked to see it was the card she given away so many years ago. She was just about to tell the girl, that she was the one who gave the card to her great-grandmother, when the girl reached into her other pocket and pulled out five dollars. She handed Amanda the money and said, "Please hold onto this card until you find someone ‘special’ to pass it onto." With that the girl ran away.

As Amanda was looking at the glittered card, she was shocked to see all the stars started to move. Instead of a group of shining stars they now grouped together to form one bright, shining star. Amanda now realized what this card was telling her so many years ago.

Christmas isn't about gifts, toys, parties or pretty clothes.

Christmas is about love and sharing!

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A Tribute of Sandy Hook Elementary School

by Cameo Smith
Mt. Wolf, PA

'Twas 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38
When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate.
Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.
They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.
They were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say.
They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.

"Where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.
"This is heaven." declared a small boy. "We're spending Christmas at God's house."
When what to their wondering eyes did appear,
But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.
He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.
Then He opened His arms and He called them by name.

And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring
Those children all flew into the arms of their King
And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,
One small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face.
And as if He could read all the questions she had
He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of mom and dad."

Then He looked down on earth, the world far below
He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe.
Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,
"Let My power and presence re-enter this land!"
"May this country be delivered from the hands of fools"
"I'm taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools!"

Then He and the children stood up without a sound.
"Come now my children, let me show you around."
Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.
All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.
And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,
"In the midst of this darkness, I AM STILL THE LIGHT."

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