[One of =
my favorite stories at Christmastime. It never gets old, and warms my heart=
each time I read it.]
It was only four days before Christmas. =
The spirit of the season hadn’t yet caught up with me, even though cars pa=
cked the parking lot of our local discount store. Inside the store, i=
t was worse. Shopping carts and last-minute shoppers jammed the aisle=
s. Why did I come today?, I wondered. My feet ached almost as m=
uch as my head. My list contained names of several people who claimed=
they wanted nothing, but I knew their feelings would be hurt if I didn’t b=
uy them anything.
Buying for someone who had everything and deploring the =
high cost of items, I considered gift-buying anything but fun. Hurrie=
dly, I filled my shopping cart with last minute items and proceeded to the =
long checkout lines. I picked the shortest, but it looked as if it wo=
uld mean at least a 20-minute wait. In front of me were two small chi=
ldren – a boy of about 5 and a younger girl. The boy wore a ragged co=
at. Enormously large, tattered tennis shoes jutted far out in front of his =
much too short jeans. He clutched several crumpled dollar bills in hi=
s grimy hands.
The girl’s clothing resembled her brother’s. He=
r head was a matted mass of curly hair. Reminders of an evening meal =
showed on her small face. She carried a beautiful pair of shiny, gold=
house slippers. As the Christmas music sounded in the store’s stereo=
system, the girl hummed along, off-key but happily.
When we finally approa=
ched the checkout register, the girl carefully placed the shoes on the coun=
ter. She treated them as though they were a treasure. The clerk=
rang up the bill. "That will be $6.09," she said.
T=
he boy laid his crumpled dollars atop the stand while he searched his pocke=
ts. He finally came up with $3.12. "I guess we will have t=
o put them back," he bravely said. "We will come back some =
other time, maybe tomorrow."
&n=
bsp;
With that statement, a soft sob broke fro=
m the little girl. "But Jesus would have loved these shoes,"=
; she cried.
"Well, we’ll go home and work some more. Don=
‘t cry. We’ll come back," he said.
Quickly, I handed $3.0=
0 to the cashier. These children had waited in line for a long time.&=
nbsp; And, after all, it was Christmas. Suddenly a pair of arms came =
around me and a small voice said, "Thank you lady."
"=
What did you mean when you said Jesus would like the shoes?" I asked. =
The boy answered, "Our mommy is sick and going to heaven. Daddy=
said she might go before Christmas to be with Jesus."
The girl=
spoke, "My Sunday school teacher said the streets in heaven are shiny=
gold, just like these shoes. Won’t mommy be beautiful walking on tho=
se streets to match these shoes?"
My eyes flooded as I looked i=
nto her tear-streaked face. "Yes" I answered, "I am su=
re she will." Silently, I thanked God for using these children t=
o remind me of the true spirit of giving.
~~
Dr Bob Griffin =
[email protected]=
www.grif.net
Continue steadfastly in prayer,
b=
eing watchful in it with thanksgiving.
m