Hi, Merry Christmas to all on this wonderful friends; you all are indeed my 
sweet, wonderful friends, and I wish only the best of holidays for you and a 
great 2007!

Sandy
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: kay scrimshaw 
  To: [email protected] 
  Sent: Tuesday, December 12, 2006 2:44 PM
  Subject: [RecipesAndMore] Re: OT: a Christmas Blessing


  Hi sil,

  merry christmas to you and your family too.

  Kay

    ----- Original Message ----- 
    From: Sugarsyl 
    To: [email protected] 
    Sent: Tuesday, December 12, 2006 7:54 PM
    Subject: [RecipesAndMore] Re: OT: a Christmas Blessing


    thanks Kay,
    Merry Christmas!!
    Syl.

    Bless us Lord, this Christmas, with quietness
    of mind; Teach us to be patient and always to
    be kind.
    Merry Christmas
    -Sylvia C. Lopez

      ----- Original Message ----- 
      From: kay scrimshaw 
      To: [email protected] 
      Sent: Tuesday, December 12, 2006 10:36 AM
      Subject: [RecipesAndMore] Re: OT: a Christmas Blessing


      awww, siol,

      that's the beautifulest thing i've read in a while, nice one.
      Gives us all something to think about over christmas.

      Kay

        ----- Original Message ----- 
        From: Sugarsyl 
        To: [email protected] 
        Sent: Tuesday, December 12, 2006 5:55 PM
        Subject: [RecipesAndMore] OT: a Christmas Blessing


        A Christmas Blessing

         

        The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't

         been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just

         another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a

         reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had

         been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when

         the door opened and a homeless man stepped through.

         

         Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his

         customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up.

         "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see

         you're busy, I'll just go." "Not without something hot in your belly."

         George said.  He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it 
to

         the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty, "Stew ... made it

         myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh."

         

         Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse

         me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53

         Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked.

         "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent.

         "My wife is with child and my car is broken."

         

         George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the

         cold, the car was dead. "You ain't going in this thing," George said as

         he turned away.

         

         "But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind

         George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys 
to

         his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building,

         opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the

         couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best

         thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."

         

         George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off 
into

         the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 
'em

         the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ."

         George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. 
The

         Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. 
"Well,

         at least he got something in his belly," George thought.

         

         George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It 
cranked

         slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck 
had

         been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas

         Eve meant no customers. He discovered the block hadn't cracked, it was

         just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he

         said to himself. So he put a new one on.  Those tires ain't gonna get

         'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his

         wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the

         car anyway.

         

         As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and 
beside

         a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left

         shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me."  George helped the

         officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the 
Army

         as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the

         bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning

         and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the

         wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to

         make the policeman feel at ease.

         

         "Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used

         for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and 
gave

         the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an

         ambulance."  The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies 
on

         that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a

         bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two-way radio.

         

         He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the

         officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still 
in

         the area."  George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured

         man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the

         bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet

         passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff

         though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain."

         

         George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he

         asked. "None for me," said the officer. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best

         in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and

         winced at the same time.

         

         The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a 
gun.

         "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was

         shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this

         before.

         

         "That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.

         

         "Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the 
cannon

         away. Somebody else might get hurt."  The young man was confused. "Shut

         up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"

         

         The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to

         the cop, "we got one too many in here now."  He turned his attention to

         the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then,

         here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pee shooter away."

         

         George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man,

         reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man

         released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm

         not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my

         wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car 
got

         repossessed last week ..."

         

         George handed the gun to the cop. Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze

         now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the

         best we can."

         

         He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across

         from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young

         man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us

         human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and 
get

         warm and we'll sort this thing out."

         

         The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I

         shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."  "Shut up and drink 
your

         coffee." the cop said.

         

         George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an

         ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns 
drawn.

         "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

         

         "Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"  "GPS

         locator in the car.  Best thing since sliced bread Who did this?" the

         other cop asked as he approached the young man.  Chuck answered him, "I

         don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and 
ran."

         

         George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other.  "That guy

         work here?" the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just hired

         him this morning. Boy lost his job."

         

         The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young

         man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"  Chuck just said,

         "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for

         everything."  "Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. 
That

         ought to solve some of your problems."

         

         George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a

         ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think

         Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

         

         The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever 
saw.

         "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."

         "And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my 
memories.

         That's all I need."

         

         George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck

         appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to

         sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."

         

         The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the 
old

         man had handed him earlier.  "And what are you supposed to buy 
Christmas

         dinner with? You keep that too," George said, "Now git home to your

         family."

         

         The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here

         in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."  "Nope. I'm

         closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."

         

         George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd

         you come from? I thought you left?"  "I have been here. I have always

         been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas.

         Why?"

         

         "Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the

         bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine

         tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by

         myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."

         

         The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate

         the holiday, George.  You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I

         was cold and hungry.  The woman with child will bear a son and he will

         become a great doctor.  The policeman you helped will go on to save 19

         people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob

         you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the

         spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."

         

         George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you

         know all this?" asked the old man. "Trust me, George. I have the inside

         track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be

         with Martha again."

         

         The stranger moved toward the door "If you will excuse me, George, I

         have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration

         planned."

         

         George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the

         stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to

         fill the room.

         "You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."

         

         George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord."

         

         Merry Christmas.

         


        From home to home, and heart to heart,
        From one place to another. The warmth and joy of
        Christmas, brings us closer to each other.
        -Sylvia C. Lopez





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