Christmas Scout

In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-yr.-old Frank Wilson was not happy. It was true, he had received all the presents he wanted, and he enjoyed the traditional Christmas Eve reunions with relatives for the purpose of exchanging gifts and good wishes but Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had together.

He said good-bye to this relatives, and explained to his parents that he was leaving a little early to see a friend, and from there he could walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It was his FAVORITE gift. He placed the other presents on his new sled, then headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy Scout troop. Frank always felt understood by him.

Tho’ rich in wisdom, his leader lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived. His patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family. To Frank’s disappointment, his friend was not home.

As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, thru one front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with limp stockings hanging over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated nearby….weeping.

The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with presents. A sudden thought struck Frank–he had not done his “good deed” for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door. “Yes?” the sad voice of a woman asked. Seeing his sled full of gifts, and assuming he was making a collection, she said, “I have no food or gifts for you. I have nothing for my own children.”

“That’s not why I am here, ” Frank replied. “Please choose whatever presents you would like for your children from the sled.”

“Why, God bless you!” the amazed woman answered gratefully. She selected some candies, a game, a toy airplane and a puzzle. When she took the Scout flashlight, Frank almost protested. Finally, the stockings were full.

“Won’t you tell me your name?” she asked, as Frank was leaving.

“Just call me the Christmas Scout,” he replied.

The visit left Frank touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in his heart. He understood that his sorrow wasn’t the only sorrow in the world.

Before he left the Flats, he had given away the rest of his gifts. His plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy. Now, Frank trudged toward home, cold and uneasy. How could he explain to his parents that he had given his presents away?

“Where are your presents, son? asked his father as Frank entered the house. “I gave them away,” he answered in a small voice.

“The airplane from Aunt Susan? Your new coat from Grandma? Your flashlight?? We tho’t you were happy with your gifts.”

“I was very happy,” Frank said quietly.

“But, Frank, how could you be so impulsive?” his mother asked. “How will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much love shopping for you?”

His father was firm. “You made your choice, Frank. We cannot afford any more presents.”

With his brother gone, and his family disappointed in him, Frank suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his generosity, for he knew that a good deed always should be its own reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back. However, he wondered if he would ever again recapture joy in his life. He thought he had this evening, but it had been fleeting. He thought of his brother, and sobbed himself to sleep.

The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke:

“Merry Christmas, everyone! The nicest Christmas story we have this morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled this morning left at his house by an anonymous teenage boy. Another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts from a teenage lad who simply called himself the ‘Christmas Scout’."

No one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself.

Frank felt his father’s arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his mother smiling thru her tears.

“Why didn’t you tell us, son? We didn’t understand. We are so proud of you.”

The carols came over the air again, filling the room with music – "Praises sing to God the King, and peace on Earth goodwill to men.”

Deuteronomy 15:7-8 tells us: “If there are poor among you in one of the towns of the land the Lord your God is giving you, do not be selfish or greedy toward them. But give freely to them, and freely lend them whatever they need.”

LET US FOLLOW FRANK’S EXAMPLE.

~ by Sam Bogan

The Tablecloth

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc. and on Dec 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished.

On Dec 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm - hit the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home.

On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church. By this time it had started to snow.

An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.

The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area. Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth?" The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the Tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again. The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church.

The pastor insisted on driving her home, that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job. What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn’t leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike? He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all the 35 years in between.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman’s apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

True Story - submitted by Pastor Rob Reid Who says God does not work in mysterious ways.

4th Sunday of Advent

Today we celebrate the Fourth Sunday of Advent.  Christmas is four days away.  In the three weeks leading up to today many of us have worked hard to prepare for Christmas.  The cards are sent.  The decorations are up.  Hopefully, most of the shopping is finished.  The gifts are wrapped and under the tree or stored in a safe place.  Now it's time to stop and reflect on what we are celebrating.  We are celebrating God's incredible gift to us - the gift of His son, Jesus who came to "save his people from their sins" (Matthew 1: 21).  We are celebrating the birth of Emmanuel - God is with us. 

The Gospel for today and for the Christmas Vigil Mass, Matthew 1: 18-24, focuses our attention on St. Joseph.  The birth of Jesus posed a serious problem for Joseph.  Although he was betrothed to Mary, they were not formally living together.  They had a contract to marry.  Joseph must have felt very hurt and betrayed when he discovered that Mary was pregnant with a child that was not his.  He could have divorced her, an act that would destroy her life and possibly the life of the child.  But he didn't.  Joseph listened to God and did what was just and honorable.  He took Mary and the baby Jesus into his home and into his heart.  Joseph trusted God and God entrusted His son to Joseph. 

Joseph is our very human model of faith, compassion and mercy.  He also is the perfect example of a strong and caring parent.  Joseph protected Jesus from the murderous wrath of Herod.  He provided a safe and secure home in which Jesus could grow and develop.  Most importantly, Joseph was responsive to the Spirit of God.  In these last few days before Christmas, take some time to reflect on St. Joseph.  And remember that all of us are called to be like Joseph.  We are called to make room for Jesus in our hearts, in our spirits, in our homes and in our community.  We are called to welcome Emmanuel; God is with us right here in Peachtree City. 

Eternal God,
in the psalms of David,
in the words of the prophets,
in the dream of Joseph
your promise is spoken.
At last, in the womb of the Virgin Mary,
your Word takes flesh.
Teach us to welcome Jesus, the promised Emmanuel,
and to preach the good news of his coming,
that every age may know him
as the source of redemption and grace.
Grant this through your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God for ever and ever.

AMEN.

I Felt it Melt my Heart

Snowflakes softly falling,

Upon your window they play.
Your blankets snug around you,
Into sleep you drift away.

I bend to gently kiss you,
when I see that on the floor.
there's a letter, neatly written.
I wonder who it's for.

I quietly unfold it,
making sure you're still asleep.
It's a Christmas list for Santa
one my heart will always keep.

It started just as always,
with the toys seen on TV.
A new watch for your father
and a winter coat for me.

But as my eyes read on,
I could see that deep inside.
There were many things you wished for,
that your loving heart would hide.

You asked if your friend Molly,
could have another Dad;
It seems her father hits her,
and it makes you very sad.

Then you asked dear Santa,
if the neighbors down the street
Could find a job, that he might have
some food, and clothes, and heat.

You saw a family on the news
whose house had blown away,
"Dear Santa, send them just one thing,
a place where they can stay."

"And Santa, those four cookies that,
I left you for a treat.
Could you take them to the children
who have nothing else to eat?"

"Do you know that little bear I have,
the one I love so dear?
I'm leaving it for you to take,
to Africa this year".

"And as you fly your reindeer,
on this night of Jesus' birth.
Could your magic bring to everyone,
goodwill and peace on earth".

"There's one last thing before you go,
so grateful I would be.
If you'd smile at Baby Jesus,
in the manger by our tree."

I pulled the letter close to me,
I felt it melt my heart.
Those tiny hands had written,
what no other could impart.

"And a little child shall lead them,"
was whispered in my ear.
As I watched you sleep on Christmas Eve
while Santa Claus was here.

May You be "Christmas" Every Time

Brown Bag Christmas

When I asked our newlywed Sunday School class to share a favorite Christmas story, Carrie Fuller said, "Our family has one we call the 'Brown Bag Christmas.'" When she finished, I had to hear more. Two days later, I called a member of her family for more details.

It was the early 1930s during the Dust Bowl days of Kansas, in the heart of the Depression. The Canaday family---Mom, Dad, 7 children---were having a tough time existing, so there would be no luxuries at Christmas that year. 

 Mom told the children to go outside and find a Christmas tree and decorate it. After a lengthy search, they returned with a dead branch, the only thing they had been able to find. They stood it up in a bucket of sand and decorated it with pieces of paper tied with string. Little Judy, almost four, did not know how a Christmas tree was supposed to look, but somehow

she knew it was not like that!

As Christmas approached, the Canaday children, like children everywhere, pestered Mom and Dad about what presents they might get under their "tree." Dad pointed out that the pantry was bare, that they did not have enough to live on, and there certainly would be no money for gifts. But Mom was a woman of faith and told her children, "Say your prayers. Ask God to send us what He wants us to have."

Dad said, "Now, Mother, don't be getting the children's hopes up. You're just setting them up for a disappointment."

Mom said, "Pray, children. Tell Jesus." And pray they did.

On Christmas Eve, the children watched out the window for visitors, but no one came. "Blow out the lamp and go to bed", Dad said. "Nobody is going to come. No one even knows we're out here."

The children turned out the lamp and got in bed, but they were too excited to sleep. Was this not Christmas? Had they not asked God to send them the presents He wanted them to have? Did Mom not say God answers prayer?

Late that night, when one of the children spotted headlights coming down the dirt road, everyone jumped out of bed and ran to the window. The commotion woke up Mom and Dad. "Don't get excited, children," Dad said. "They're probably not coming here. It's just someone who got lost." The children kept hoping and the car kept coming. Then, Dad lit a lamp. They all wanted to rush to the door at the same time, but Mr. Canaday said, "Stay back. I'll go."

Someone got out of the car and called, "I was wondering if someone here can help me unload these bags." The children dashed out the door to lend a hand.

Mom said to her youngest, "Stay here, Judy, and help Mom open the bags and put up the gifts."

A deacon from the church in town had gone to bed that Christmas Eve, and lay there tossing and turning, unable to get the Canaday family off his mind. Later, he said, "I didn't know what kind of shape you folks were in, but I knew you had all those kids." He had gotten up and dressed and went around town, rousing people from their sleep to ask for a contribution for the Canaday family. He filled his car with bags of groceries, canned goods, toys, and clothing. Little Judy got a rag doll which remained her favorite for years.

With so much food, Dad wanted to have a Christmas feast, to spread it all out and eat as they had never eaten before. Mom, ever the caretaker, said, "No, we need to make this last." And it did last, for weeks.

The next Sunday, Mrs. Canaday stood in church and told what the members---and one deacon in particular ---had done for her family. There was not a dry eye in the house.

Years later, the oldest sister Eva wrote up this story about her family for a school project. Eva said, "We were so thrilled by all the wonderful things in the bags, for a while; we lost sight of the most special gift. The best gift that Christmas was not in brown bags at all. It was Mom's faith, as she taught her children to bring their needs to Jesus and trust Him to meet them. And a Dad's love that wanted only to protect his children from hurt and disappointment."

When Carrie finished telling her story, she added, "Little Judy is my wonderful grandmother." Today, Judy Canaday Dryden lives in Sanger, Texas. As she relived this event from seventy years ago over the phone, one could hear the tear in her voice and feel her pride in being the recipient of

such a precious heritage from her mother and father.

At Christmas, we celebrate praying mothers and caring fathers and believing children. We give thanks for sensitive deacons and generous friends and sleepless nights. And we praise God for the hard times that teach unforgettable lessons, stories of faithfulness that get told and retold through the years inspiring each new generation to place their faith in a loving Savior.

~ Author Unknown

Third Sunday of Advent

The 3^rd Sunday of Advent traditionally is known as Gaudete Sunday.  The term Gaudete means rejoice in Latin, a word that appears in the entrance antiphon of Masses held today: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice! The Lord is near.  The rose colored Advent candle we light reminds us that our time of waiting is almost over – there are only nine days left in our Advent Pilgrimage. 

REJOICE!  Isaiah tells us because “those whom the LORD has ransomed will return and enter Zion singing, crowned with everlasting joy” (Is. 35:10). REJOICE!  Jesus tells John the Baptist’s disciples because “the blind regain their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them” (Matt.11:5).  REJOICE!  St. James tells the waiting Christians “because the coming of the Lord is at hand” (James 5: 8).  REJOICE!  Because Jesus Christ tells us that although “among those born of women, there has been none greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he” (Matt.11: 11).

REJOICE, because we are the people who inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.  We are greater than John the Baptist because we have seen the full revelation of God’s love through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  John the Baptist came to direct us to a greatness he would never experience.  Jesus, the Messiah, came to save us. REJOICE!  

Let us pray

that God will fill us with joy at the coming of Christ.

Lord God,

may we, your people,

who look forward to the birthday of Christ

experience the joy of salvation

and celebrate that feast with love and thanksgiving.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,

who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,

one God, for ever and ever.

Amen