A Holiday Greeting From Sara, 23 Dec 1999
Hello, everyone!
Nothing could convey the sentiment of Christmas love than the attached
story...and I would like to thank Lori Z. for sending it my way. I send all
of you joy and love and may our new year be merry and bright!
Love,
Sara Hickman
The Real Meaning of Christmas
Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered
their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who
were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from
him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from
receiving.
It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling
like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money
to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted so bad that year for Christmas. We did
the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a
little extra time so we could read in the Bible. So after supper was over I
took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for
Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to
be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read scriptures. But Pa didn't
get the Bible, instead he bundled up and went outside. I couldn't figure it
out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it
long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.
Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there
was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold
out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the
rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly
reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't
think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this.
But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told
them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap,
coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to
leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what. Outside, I became
even more dismayed.
There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to
the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a
short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up the big sled
unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins
in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at
me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and
stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll
put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me.
The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to
do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do
would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on. When we had exchanged the
sideboards Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of
wood---the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain,
and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing?
Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked,"what are you doing?"
You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow
Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or
so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight.
Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah," I said, "why?" "I rode
by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile
trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood,Matt." That was all he said
and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of
wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if
the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our
loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side
of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and
wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right
shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the
little sack?" I asked. "Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had
gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this
morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas
without a little candy."
We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I
tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly
standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left
now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and
split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour,so we could spare
that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes
and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer
neighbors than us. It shouldn't have been our concern. We came in
from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as
possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked.
The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"
"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?"
Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped
around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in
front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at
all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. "We
brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put
the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it.
She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There
was a pair for her and one for each of the children, sturdy shoes, the best,
shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to
keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down
her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it
wouldn't come out. "We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said,
then he turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring enough in to last for awhile.
Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up."
I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the
wood. I had a big lump in my throat and, much as I hate to admit it, there
were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled
around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her
cheeks and so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart
swelled within me and a joy filled my soul that I'd never known before. I had
given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much
difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these
people. I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids
started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen
looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time.
She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord
himself has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send
one of his angels to us."
In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears
welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms
before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably
true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I
started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me,
and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.
Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was
amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to
get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would
make sure he got the right sizes. Tears were running down Widow Jensen's
face again when we stood up to leave.
Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug.
They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed
their pa, and I was glad that I still had mine. At the door Pa turned to
Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children
over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of
us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too
many meals. We'll be by over to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to
have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell."
I was the youngest. My two older brothers and two older sisters were
all married and had moved away.
Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have
to say, "'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will." Out
on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even
notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I
want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money
away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't
have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from
years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited,
thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town
this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out
scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew
what I had to do. So, Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for
those children. I hope you understand."
I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood
very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Just then the rifle seemed
very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given
me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three
children. For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a
block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I
felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a
rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.
