Cuddled behind a dumpster, little Sara watched and waited to see if the big man would keep searching for her. He kicked a few garbage cans over, threw a couple broken bottles against the faded red brick walls of the alley and yelled out “Come here you little brat, if I get my hands on you….”. But Sara stayed crouched in her little hiding place safe and secure from this mammoth man of evil. Tears rolled down her cheeks like the rain off a tin roof. She held the sleeve of her coat to her mouth to muffle any involuntary sounds she might make. The man soon cussing and yelling continued down the alley until he could be heard no more. Shaking and cold, Sara slowly stepped out from her wall of hope and starred hopelessly down the dark abyss where the man disappeared. Clutching a little worn out book in her hand she spoke softly “Mister Jesus, I am so afraid. What do I do now Mister Jesus?” She slowly walked up the alley toward a small building with a cross painted on the door. She grabbed the doorknob and turned it gently hoping against hope that it would open. She did not know what the place was but she thought she could wait inside for a few minutes and get out of the cold if only for a little while. The doorknob turned and the door opened. Inside this door was a large room full of wooden benches with a tall table in front. There was a rather primitive wooden crossed tacked to the front of the table.
Sara had spent all of her life in a state orphanage run by Mr. Muncey, the big man now chasing her. She had never been to church but one day, on a Christmas Eve, there was a small group of people that came to her orphanage and gave all the kids candy and a toy. One of the people Sara remembered was named Rebecca and she read a story that has been in Sara’s mind for nearly three years now. It was the story of another little child named Jesus that was born in a manger. Sara had remembered that story and told it to herself over and over again. Nice Miss Rebecca gave Sara another little gift that that day Sara cherished very much. It was the little book that Sara now clutched in her hand, the little worn bible she now protected and talked to. She could not read very well yet but she tried so hard to understand all the words in the little book.
One page she had marked and she read it over and over again. “ For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” Mr. Muncey had tried to take her little book many times but something always got in the way. Once he reached over and grabbed it and was going to throw it in the furnace when all the lights went out and he had to go get candles. By the time he got the circuit breaker back on he had forgotten about Sara’s little book and she grabbed it back up and hid it under her mat. Mr. Muncey was a mean man that beat the children for very little reason. Each year at this time there would be gifts brought to the orphanage for the children but as soon as the good people would leave Mr. Muncey would collect all the gifts and go sell them at the local flea market. Mr. Muncey would tell the children that he was doing it for their own good. He would say that there are no free rides in life and that they had better get used to it.
Up on the wall Sara saw a picture of a kind man with long hair and a beard. She did not know why but she somehow felt safe here. The floor was of hard wood, just as hard as the benches but Sara thought she would just stay here for the night. She crawled up one of the front benches and curled up the best that she could. Her long brown hair made a nice scarf around her neck and she pulled her legs up into her coat as much as possible to keep them from going numb. Her breathe was like smoke as she tried to stay warm. “Mr. Jesus, I need you” she mumbled as she drifted into a light sleep. After lying there a few minutes the smoke from her breathe disappeared as the room began to warm up. She felt much more comfortable now and relaxed somewhat on the bench. As her sleep started to deepen she was awakened with a loud pound on the door. “Sara…Sara you little runt I will rip the hide from your back” the voice shouted. Sara sat up and again started shaking. The door began to rattle and move as the voice on the other side began to rant and rave and pound. She could tell the door was beginning to crack as Mr. Muncey kicked at it with all his might. The room began to get brighter and glow and Sara for a moment forgot of the rage behind the door. Suddenly all around the room were very tall people. Their clothes were bright white and some even had wings like eagles on their backs. Two of them stood together at the door side by side. These two were much larger than the others and held large shining swords in their hands.
A gentle hand touched Sara on the shoulder from behind and as she turned there was the man in the picture. ‘Its ok Sara, I am here with you and will not leave you. I need you too Sara” the gentle voice said. She looked up into the face of the man when she was startled by the cracking sound of wood. She turned quickly to face the door as the facing around it shattered into the air. With one mighty kick Mr. Muncey blew the door open. “Alright you little wretch, I promised you a beaten and I am a man of my word” he scowled. His eyes quickly fixed on the two angelic beings in his path and he dropped the board he had in his hand. “What the….hey who are you…what are you?’ he staggered backwards a step or two and then the anger raged within him again. “Get out of the way you freaks, I’m going to bust me a butt” he screamed. The two beings moved forward, one of the swords lifted upward and lunged forward striking Mr. Muncey straight into the heart. There was no blood but Mr. Muncey grabbed his chest and fell to his knees. Sara saw behind him blue flashing lights and two police officers rushed into through the door with guns drawn. They grabbed Mr. Muncey and placed hand cuffs on him. The pastor of the little church came in right behind the officers. One of the officers thanked the pastor for calling them from the church. The 911 call helped them trace the call straight to the church so they were able to get there fast. They said if they had not gotten there when they did, they feared Mr. Muncey would have killed the little girl. Pastor Larken stood there rather dazed for a moment and then spoke in a shakey voice. Officer, I just got here and I did not call you… besides we don’t have a phone here at the church. Little Sara looked back at the picture on the wall and softly whispered “thank you Mister Jesus”.
Written by Terry Lee Richardson
Copyright © December 23, 2010
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The Empty Manger
With Christmas just around the corner I thought I would share a little Christmas story I started writing a few years ago and just finished tweeking. I hope you enjoy it. Its a Christian version of "Its a Wonderful Life". Let me know what you think. MERRY CHRISTMAS.
Terry
Charlie walked slowly down the roadside kicking loose stones, and humming Christmas Carols he had heard since he was a boy. “Here comes Santa Clause here comes Santa Clause right down Santa Clause lane” he sang. As he walk he stared up at the flickering ornamental lights on the houses, Santa Clause and his eight tiny reindeer, snowmen with their magical top hats, elves and Christmas trees could be seen through the new snow flakes as they lightly fell. What a wonderful night to be walking around his neighborhood on a chilly Christmas Eve. Soon Charlie would go home to his wife and put the toys around the Christmas tree for his son Shaune and daughter Cindy to find in the morning. Charlie inhaled deeply of the smell of oak firewood burning in the fireplaces. As he watched the smoke from the cold flow out into the night air Charlie yelled out “ Now this is the true meaning of Christmas” as he twirled in circles. Suddenly the lights all went out and the snows stopped falling.
Charlie stood quietly somewhat shocked, hearing a sound behind him he spun around. In front of him stood a tall man dressed in a white suit with golden hair and a fluorescent kind of glow about him. “Charles, do you think that this is all that Christmas is?” the stranger asked. “I think that this is the reason we celebrate and not all that 2000 year old Christian fairy tale stuff” replied Charlie. “Well then Charles perhaps you need to see what the world would have been like had the Savior never come” said the Angel. Charlie unable to speak at first then blurted out “that is all just folk lure and no one really cares.” As the last word left his mouth like the launching bay of a nuclear missile the angel was gone. Suddenly Charlie felt all alone, really alone.
The winds howled and the streetlights were all on but no Christmas lights were to be found. Instead the roads were full of debris and the houses were mostly old and run down. Screaming and yelling could be heard in the homes along the streets. Charlie walked now briskly toward the small building he had called home for 12 years. When he got to the door, he grabbed the handle and pushed but strangely enough the door would not open. Suddenly a loud blast was heard and chips of wood flew from the dime size hole just created in the door causing Charlie to leap behind the shrubbery. A women came to the door in ragged clothes with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her lip and said “Hey bub… you wana good time, show me your money but don’t try to strong arm your way in here or your worm food.” Charlie recognized the women because it was his wife Sheila. “What in the world was happening here? Sheila you know who I am, I am your husband for crying out loud. Now stop this nonsense and let me in” Charlie shouted. Sheila quickly replied, “ What are you some kinda escaped loon? One more step and I will give you a new hole to breathe through” she screamed back as she slammed the door in Charlie’s face. As Charlie turned he saw two men at the door of his neighbor Jim’s house taunting him to come out so they could have their way with him. Charlie was mortified with both anger and fear. As he looked across the street at Pastor Peter’s home, a group of boys were beating poor Peter as he cussed them. Two of the boys went into Peter’s home and dragged his two teenage daughters out to the street. “Dear God what is happening here?” Shouted Charlie. Charlie was never much of a church going man. He went to church on Easter Sunday and maybe once or twice during the year and thought that was enough but now he needed to see a church and a pastor. Charlie ran down the street towards the Billingsville Assembly of God. When he arrived he found a Jewish Synagogue but no sign of the church. Charlie ran from street to street but there were no churches to be found anywhere in the town of Billingsville, only mosques and synagogues.
Charlie slowly shuffled down Main Street to where the live manger seen sat in front of the City Hall. That was always a place where Charlie could bring his family every year to marvel at the craftsmanship of the manger, stables, and Bethlehem Inn set upon the lawn of the City Hall. Tonight was a very different scene however. Tonight there was only a board with the name of accused enemies of the state. A large gallows with six ropes and a fresh coat of red paint with a sign above that read “ Enemies of Rome live on Network Channel 3. Your entertainment Network”. Charlie grabbed the old man sitting on the gallows and shook him. “Where is the manger, where is the baby Jesus, where are the animals?” Charlie yelled in desperation. The old man was startled for a moment and then yelled “HELP HELP… CENTURIANS HELP ME”. Charlie quickly let go and ran off down the icy road slipping and stumbling all the way to the Stallmart Department store. He quickly disappeared inside and began to look around. On the shelves there were no toys or gifts. The Christmas trees and ornaments were gone from the shelves. No reindeer, lighted Santa’s or angels, nothing but clothes, pornographic books and items of necessity. In the center of the store was an auction that was in progress. In this auction were men women and children being sold like heads of cattle. “ Who will give me $1500 for this young female. She will be good for years of hard labor and pleasure to her master” yelled the auctioneer. Charlie quickly recognized her as a friend of his daughters and became ill as he rushed outside and collapsed into the grass. In front of him again was the tall stranger. He knelt down to Charlie on the ground and said “Are you still so sure Jesus didn’t mean anything Charles?” Charlie with tears in his eyes replied sobberly “ But this nation was founded by the people leaving Spain and England to find freedom to worship as they pleased. I don’t understand this Roman stuff”.
In a soft whispering voice the angel said “Charles that trip never happened. The Catholic church never developed, there were never any popes nor were there ever any Protestants. The world as you knew it was formed and molded with a basis on my Lord’s appearance on Earth. Since he never came, freedom never came, the United States was never founded, your constitution was never written and slavery was never abolished. Your sins were never forgiven, evil has been allowed to flourish and you still have the Adamic nature and will perish and burn in an everlasting hell.”
Getting back up Charlie began to cry “ Lord, I am so sorry for what I said. Please God give me another chance and I will always keep the birth of your son sacred. I didn’t mean it God, please send your son back to us I believe he was born and did die for my sins…please”. As he cried into his hands he began to feel the wet cold snow falling into his shirt collar. Charlie stood up and looked around the lights of Christmas were again sparkling in red, green, blue and yellow. With a huge smile on his face he screamed out to the top of his lungs “Hosanna in the highest. Thank you Father for sending us your Son.” Spinning and leaping Charlie headed down to the Billingsville Assembly of God were Pastor Peter was just beginning the watch night service. Charlie was praising and Glorifying God almost without catching a breath in between. Charlie had been given a gift tonight. He asked Pastor Peter if he could come down and give a testimony of what Christmas meant to him. The Pastor was delighted and then another and another spoke up. Charlie saw what it would have been like if Jesus had never come to the earth and the horror changed his life forever. Behind Charlie was a tall stranger in a white suit. He patted Charlie on the back and said “ well done Charlie and a very Merry Christmas to you ” he said as he disappeared into the night like an evaporating fog at sun up.
Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © December 16, 2009
Terry
Charlie walked slowly down the roadside kicking loose stones, and humming Christmas Carols he had heard since he was a boy. “Here comes Santa Clause here comes Santa Clause right down Santa Clause lane” he sang. As he walk he stared up at the flickering ornamental lights on the houses, Santa Clause and his eight tiny reindeer, snowmen with their magical top hats, elves and Christmas trees could be seen through the new snow flakes as they lightly fell. What a wonderful night to be walking around his neighborhood on a chilly Christmas Eve. Soon Charlie would go home to his wife and put the toys around the Christmas tree for his son Shaune and daughter Cindy to find in the morning. Charlie inhaled deeply of the smell of oak firewood burning in the fireplaces. As he watched the smoke from the cold flow out into the night air Charlie yelled out “ Now this is the true meaning of Christmas” as he twirled in circles. Suddenly the lights all went out and the snows stopped falling.
Charlie stood quietly somewhat shocked, hearing a sound behind him he spun around. In front of him stood a tall man dressed in a white suit with golden hair and a fluorescent kind of glow about him. “Charles, do you think that this is all that Christmas is?” the stranger asked. “I think that this is the reason we celebrate and not all that 2000 year old Christian fairy tale stuff” replied Charlie. “Well then Charles perhaps you need to see what the world would have been like had the Savior never come” said the Angel. Charlie unable to speak at first then blurted out “that is all just folk lure and no one really cares.” As the last word left his mouth like the launching bay of a nuclear missile the angel was gone. Suddenly Charlie felt all alone, really alone.
The winds howled and the streetlights were all on but no Christmas lights were to be found. Instead the roads were full of debris and the houses were mostly old and run down. Screaming and yelling could be heard in the homes along the streets. Charlie walked now briskly toward the small building he had called home for 12 years. When he got to the door, he grabbed the handle and pushed but strangely enough the door would not open. Suddenly a loud blast was heard and chips of wood flew from the dime size hole just created in the door causing Charlie to leap behind the shrubbery. A women came to the door in ragged clothes with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her lip and said “Hey bub… you wana good time, show me your money but don’t try to strong arm your way in here or your worm food.” Charlie recognized the women because it was his wife Sheila. “What in the world was happening here? Sheila you know who I am, I am your husband for crying out loud. Now stop this nonsense and let me in” Charlie shouted. Sheila quickly replied, “ What are you some kinda escaped loon? One more step and I will give you a new hole to breathe through” she screamed back as she slammed the door in Charlie’s face. As Charlie turned he saw two men at the door of his neighbor Jim’s house taunting him to come out so they could have their way with him. Charlie was mortified with both anger and fear. As he looked across the street at Pastor Peter’s home, a group of boys were beating poor Peter as he cussed them. Two of the boys went into Peter’s home and dragged his two teenage daughters out to the street. “Dear God what is happening here?” Shouted Charlie. Charlie was never much of a church going man. He went to church on Easter Sunday and maybe once or twice during the year and thought that was enough but now he needed to see a church and a pastor. Charlie ran down the street towards the Billingsville Assembly of God. When he arrived he found a Jewish Synagogue but no sign of the church. Charlie ran from street to street but there were no churches to be found anywhere in the town of Billingsville, only mosques and synagogues.
Charlie slowly shuffled down Main Street to where the live manger seen sat in front of the City Hall. That was always a place where Charlie could bring his family every year to marvel at the craftsmanship of the manger, stables, and Bethlehem Inn set upon the lawn of the City Hall. Tonight was a very different scene however. Tonight there was only a board with the name of accused enemies of the state. A large gallows with six ropes and a fresh coat of red paint with a sign above that read “ Enemies of Rome live on Network Channel 3. Your entertainment Network”. Charlie grabbed the old man sitting on the gallows and shook him. “Where is the manger, where is the baby Jesus, where are the animals?” Charlie yelled in desperation. The old man was startled for a moment and then yelled “HELP HELP… CENTURIANS HELP ME”. Charlie quickly let go and ran off down the icy road slipping and stumbling all the way to the Stallmart Department store. He quickly disappeared inside and began to look around. On the shelves there were no toys or gifts. The Christmas trees and ornaments were gone from the shelves. No reindeer, lighted Santa’s or angels, nothing but clothes, pornographic books and items of necessity. In the center of the store was an auction that was in progress. In this auction were men women and children being sold like heads of cattle. “ Who will give me $1500 for this young female. She will be good for years of hard labor and pleasure to her master” yelled the auctioneer. Charlie quickly recognized her as a friend of his daughters and became ill as he rushed outside and collapsed into the grass. In front of him again was the tall stranger. He knelt down to Charlie on the ground and said “Are you still so sure Jesus didn’t mean anything Charles?” Charlie with tears in his eyes replied sobberly “ But this nation was founded by the people leaving Spain and England to find freedom to worship as they pleased. I don’t understand this Roman stuff”.
In a soft whispering voice the angel said “Charles that trip never happened. The Catholic church never developed, there were never any popes nor were there ever any Protestants. The world as you knew it was formed and molded with a basis on my Lord’s appearance on Earth. Since he never came, freedom never came, the United States was never founded, your constitution was never written and slavery was never abolished. Your sins were never forgiven, evil has been allowed to flourish and you still have the Adamic nature and will perish and burn in an everlasting hell.”
Getting back up Charlie began to cry “ Lord, I am so sorry for what I said. Please God give me another chance and I will always keep the birth of your son sacred. I didn’t mean it God, please send your son back to us I believe he was born and did die for my sins…please”. As he cried into his hands he began to feel the wet cold snow falling into his shirt collar. Charlie stood up and looked around the lights of Christmas were again sparkling in red, green, blue and yellow. With a huge smile on his face he screamed out to the top of his lungs “Hosanna in the highest. Thank you Father for sending us your Son.” Spinning and leaping Charlie headed down to the Billingsville Assembly of God were Pastor Peter was just beginning the watch night service. Charlie was praising and Glorifying God almost without catching a breath in between. Charlie had been given a gift tonight. He asked Pastor Peter if he could come down and give a testimony of what Christmas meant to him. The Pastor was delighted and then another and another spoke up. Charlie saw what it would have been like if Jesus had never come to the earth and the horror changed his life forever. Behind Charlie was a tall stranger in a white suit. He patted Charlie on the back and said “ well done Charlie and a very Merry Christmas to you ” he said as he disappeared into the night like an evaporating fog at sun up.
Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © December 16, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
In My Neighborhood at Christmas...kinda
Well as you may have guessed I do not live in the sprawling suburbs of Chicago. It’s just a little ole community here in Pace Florida. Never heard of it? How about the township next door, Pea Ridge? Now you have to wonder if a fellow stood at a hill and relieved himself while a surveyor was looking around thinking what "can I call this place?". I supposed you get my drift…this is a small town.
I like to walk the neighborhood in the mornings with my little Papillion (that’s a pedigree dog with papers for all you country folks) for my exercise and because my carpets stain easily. I believe she is the only dog in the neighborhood that is not part pit bull. I have only seen a few Christmas lights this year but I think that’s because it runs up the gas tab on the generators. There are a few yard decorations out and much to my amazement they are rather festive. I especially like Santa’s Reindeer frolicking across the lawn with a hunter and his Browning 7MM locked and loaded close behind. To simulate a festive light look you should see those tracer lights flickering all the way to Rudolph’s heart. Brings a tear to my eye and a growl to my belly.
Of course as you round the first bend you are awestruck by ole Saint Nick himself sliding off the roof of a home. A jolly ole elf with a snow white beard and nearly as round as he is tall all dressed in red with a blue southern cross with white stars across the back reading “God Bless Robert E Lee”. Below him he has dropped his gifts from him gift bag and you can still read the labels... Remington, Smith and Wesson, Ruger and Coleman. Now you haven’t lived until you have seen a camouflaged 1987 Ford F150 4X4 with a 12 inch lift kit all decked out in red white and blue LED Christmas lights with a life like replica of Rudolph strapped to the hood, why even the red nose glows. Through the window of that mobile home I can see a beautiful 4 foot Christmas tree, ok looks more like a white pine but hey it’s the thought that counts. It’s all decked out with Christmas balls, small Jack Daniels bottles and 12 gauge shotgun shell garland all around it. There is a beautiful red and green sign that looks like piled snow rolling down it that reads “If you’re found here tonight you will be found here in the morning”.
Talk about purty, you aint lived till you seen a singlewide trailer with lighted wheels that look like they are turning and the whole trailer all outlined in lights. I bet the mortgage company shows up every few days to see if they are moving. Back the pickup truck up to the hitch and I bet they make them pay three months in advance for lot rent.
Now here is where I draw the line, there is no way you can strap a set of antlers on a pit bull and convince me he is a reindeer. Eight pit bulls pulling a 72 Chevy truck bed trailer does not a slay make. And you can’t convince me that a pot bellied old man in a red faded suit with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, a six pack of cold bud under his arm, firing a Remington 12 gauge pump shotgun yelling Merry Christmas is a replica of a Norman Rockwell painting but it does get interesting when a squirrel runs out in front of them.
Ok… so maybe I exaggerated a little bit …alright a lot but... that’s funny right thar I don’t care who you are. Have a great day.
I like to walk the neighborhood in the mornings with my little Papillion (that’s a pedigree dog with papers for all you country folks) for my exercise and because my carpets stain easily. I believe she is the only dog in the neighborhood that is not part pit bull. I have only seen a few Christmas lights this year but I think that’s because it runs up the gas tab on the generators. There are a few yard decorations out and much to my amazement they are rather festive. I especially like Santa’s Reindeer frolicking across the lawn with a hunter and his Browning 7MM locked and loaded close behind. To simulate a festive light look you should see those tracer lights flickering all the way to Rudolph’s heart. Brings a tear to my eye and a growl to my belly.
Of course as you round the first bend you are awestruck by ole Saint Nick himself sliding off the roof of a home. A jolly ole elf with a snow white beard and nearly as round as he is tall all dressed in red with a blue southern cross with white stars across the back reading “God Bless Robert E Lee”. Below him he has dropped his gifts from him gift bag and you can still read the labels... Remington, Smith and Wesson, Ruger and Coleman. Now you haven’t lived until you have seen a camouflaged 1987 Ford F150 4X4 with a 12 inch lift kit all decked out in red white and blue LED Christmas lights with a life like replica of Rudolph strapped to the hood, why even the red nose glows. Through the window of that mobile home I can see a beautiful 4 foot Christmas tree, ok looks more like a white pine but hey it’s the thought that counts. It’s all decked out with Christmas balls, small Jack Daniels bottles and 12 gauge shotgun shell garland all around it. There is a beautiful red and green sign that looks like piled snow rolling down it that reads “If you’re found here tonight you will be found here in the morning”.
Talk about purty, you aint lived till you seen a singlewide trailer with lighted wheels that look like they are turning and the whole trailer all outlined in lights. I bet the mortgage company shows up every few days to see if they are moving. Back the pickup truck up to the hitch and I bet they make them pay three months in advance for lot rent.
Now here is where I draw the line, there is no way you can strap a set of antlers on a pit bull and convince me he is a reindeer. Eight pit bulls pulling a 72 Chevy truck bed trailer does not a slay make. And you can’t convince me that a pot bellied old man in a red faded suit with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, a six pack of cold bud under his arm, firing a Remington 12 gauge pump shotgun yelling Merry Christmas is a replica of a Norman Rockwell painting but it does get interesting when a squirrel runs out in front of them.
Ok… so maybe I exaggerated a little bit …alright a lot but... that’s funny right thar I don’t care who you are. Have a great day.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Do You miss Christmas Past?
The title makes you think back doesn’t it? Remember when you were a child (well some us have to really stretch that brain to go back that far)? Some of my fondest memories were of Christmas decorations in the 60’s and 70’s of the previous century (wow, now this really does make me seem old).
In Panama City Florida in the late 1960’s I remember a downtown quite different than today. The McDonalds on Harrison Ave had large neon lighted golden arches to the right and left of the restaurant. On Saturdays the local firemen would come to the McDonalds with a fire truck for the youngsters to ogle over because in those days, the firemen and policemen were our hero’s. There would be a fireman dressed out in a Santa Clause suit sitting on a large chair with a velvety red throw over it giving out sacks of goodies. These sacks were made by the firemen on their own time with the help of the local scout troops. They contained crème filled chocolate drops WITH NO WRAPPERS, an apple, an orange, and numerous nuts in shells. McDonalds would donate food and beverages to the scouts and firemen who toiled there all day long until the goodie sacks were exhausted. It was a great feeling to be part of that as a boy scout and I am sure at least as much for the firemen.
I remember two weeks before Christmas the local fire departments driving through the neighborhoods with sirens and lights blazing because a jolly old elf came to call on the back of a Fire Engine. He would toss candy out to all the kids in the neighborhood as he passed by their homes. We would ride behind the trucks on our bikes with no helmets, no knee and arm pads, no lawyer in our pockets, with playing cards clothes pinned to our spokes for pop pop engine noise yelling at that top of our lungs at old Saint Nick to throw some more candy to us.
The lights on the houses were those really large light bulbs nailed along the edge of the eves. You might see a large tree or two with them wrapped all around them as well. Large plastic Santa’s and manger scenes filled the yards with excitement. Nothing was blown up during those holidays except maybe a mail box or two from the old M-80 fire crackers which are now designated in the same class as dynamite.
Carolers roamed the neighborhoods in those days singing from door to door. Grateful occupants would reward them with cups of hot cider and hot Christmas cookies fresh from the oven. Doors were left open if it were a warmer Christmas with just the wooden screen door for protection from the almost no existent gangs and drug crazed thugs. There was plenty of time to enjoy the carolers since TV only consisted of two channels for most, ABC and NBC with CBS if the weather was just right.
It’s a wonderful life was a treat because you could only see it once a year. There were no video recorders, DVD players or T vo’s to record it or play it. Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, and real Christmas specials were a treat. Live TV shows like The Andy Williams Christmas Special, Bing Crosby Christmas Show and always Ed Sullivan with many Christmas songs performed by wholesome artists with respect and reverence.
The majority of the homes in those days had real Christmas trees inside decorated with popcorn strings, gingerbread cookies, hand cut paper snow flakes from school crafts, and always an Angel at the top of the tree. The only artificial trees were REALLY artificial. They were silver aluminum trees with a motorized light bulb at the base with a rotating plastic round lense with four different colored panels. When these panels came across the light bulb the shiny silver tree turned from yellow to red to blue and to green and was quite beautiful. Both of my grandmothers owned such a wondrous device as these.
People in those days knew their neighbors. They knew them all down perhaps six or seven houses down both directions and would drop by from time to time during the holidays for a visit carrying a cake, cookies or a freshly made pie. Maybe that is why people stuck together more. Because they met their neighbors and it became person to them. Today, if we even know the last name of the person living to our immediate right or left we are doing well. The personal touches are gone. The innocence of that age are gone.
We have insulated ourselves to our TV’s and computers so much today that we no longer have a need for human companionship. Perhaps that is one reason there are so many messed up people in our townships today. So many alcoholics, drug addicts and mentally oppressed and depressed people. Isolationist may be a great part of why we are in the mess we are in with our government. We depend too much on someone else to decide our fate. We depend too much on someone else to protest a crooked politician. We depend too much on someone else taking the time to go to the court houses and capitals to let them know we won’t stand for their corruption anymore. Christmas’s in our country have changed…. because we have changed. Have a great day.
In Panama City Florida in the late 1960’s I remember a downtown quite different than today. The McDonalds on Harrison Ave had large neon lighted golden arches to the right and left of the restaurant. On Saturdays the local firemen would come to the McDonalds with a fire truck for the youngsters to ogle over because in those days, the firemen and policemen were our hero’s. There would be a fireman dressed out in a Santa Clause suit sitting on a large chair with a velvety red throw over it giving out sacks of goodies. These sacks were made by the firemen on their own time with the help of the local scout troops. They contained crème filled chocolate drops WITH NO WRAPPERS, an apple, an orange, and numerous nuts in shells. McDonalds would donate food and beverages to the scouts and firemen who toiled there all day long until the goodie sacks were exhausted. It was a great feeling to be part of that as a boy scout and I am sure at least as much for the firemen.
I remember two weeks before Christmas the local fire departments driving through the neighborhoods with sirens and lights blazing because a jolly old elf came to call on the back of a Fire Engine. He would toss candy out to all the kids in the neighborhood as he passed by their homes. We would ride behind the trucks on our bikes with no helmets, no knee and arm pads, no lawyer in our pockets, with playing cards clothes pinned to our spokes for pop pop engine noise yelling at that top of our lungs at old Saint Nick to throw some more candy to us.
The lights on the houses were those really large light bulbs nailed along the edge of the eves. You might see a large tree or two with them wrapped all around them as well. Large plastic Santa’s and manger scenes filled the yards with excitement. Nothing was blown up during those holidays except maybe a mail box or two from the old M-80 fire crackers which are now designated in the same class as dynamite.
Carolers roamed the neighborhoods in those days singing from door to door. Grateful occupants would reward them with cups of hot cider and hot Christmas cookies fresh from the oven. Doors were left open if it were a warmer Christmas with just the wooden screen door for protection from the almost no existent gangs and drug crazed thugs. There was plenty of time to enjoy the carolers since TV only consisted of two channels for most, ABC and NBC with CBS if the weather was just right.
It’s a wonderful life was a treat because you could only see it once a year. There were no video recorders, DVD players or T vo’s to record it or play it. Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, and real Christmas specials were a treat. Live TV shows like The Andy Williams Christmas Special, Bing Crosby Christmas Show and always Ed Sullivan with many Christmas songs performed by wholesome artists with respect and reverence.
The majority of the homes in those days had real Christmas trees inside decorated with popcorn strings, gingerbread cookies, hand cut paper snow flakes from school crafts, and always an Angel at the top of the tree. The only artificial trees were REALLY artificial. They were silver aluminum trees with a motorized light bulb at the base with a rotating plastic round lense with four different colored panels. When these panels came across the light bulb the shiny silver tree turned from yellow to red to blue and to green and was quite beautiful. Both of my grandmothers owned such a wondrous device as these.
People in those days knew their neighbors. They knew them all down perhaps six or seven houses down both directions and would drop by from time to time during the holidays for a visit carrying a cake, cookies or a freshly made pie. Maybe that is why people stuck together more. Because they met their neighbors and it became person to them. Today, if we even know the last name of the person living to our immediate right or left we are doing well. The personal touches are gone. The innocence of that age are gone.
We have insulated ourselves to our TV’s and computers so much today that we no longer have a need for human companionship. Perhaps that is one reason there are so many messed up people in our townships today. So many alcoholics, drug addicts and mentally oppressed and depressed people. Isolationist may be a great part of why we are in the mess we are in with our government. We depend too much on someone else to decide our fate. We depend too much on someone else to protest a crooked politician. We depend too much on someone else taking the time to go to the court houses and capitals to let them know we won’t stand for their corruption anymore. Christmas’s in our country have changed…. because we have changed. Have a great day.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
The Christmas Gift
Well we are well on our way to a Christmas Day count down so I am throwing in a Christmas Story I wrote a while back. Hope you enjoy it.
It was an uncommonly cold Christmas here on the Gulf of Mexico. Corporal John Downs was trying to keep warm by the small fire built in the courtyard of Fort Gaines. He knelt down with his tin mucket of strong muddy coffee and sat it once again over the red coals of oak and pine. The smoke rose high above the cold stone walls of the small fort into the strong winter wind blowing just above the stone barrier walls. Guard duty was a lonely job, not exactly the type of position John had envisioned when he signed up with the Confederate States Army last spring. He had a vision of grandeur, as he would march gloriously across a bloody battlefield for The Confederate States of America, the great state of Alabama and Robert E. Lee into a blaze of Glory. Not to be stuck down here in this God forsaken marsh land to protect Mobile Bay from the Yankee Navy.
This had been a very bad year for the confederacy, only last month losing Chattanooga Tennessee to General Grant and the Union Army. John still wonders how President Davis could have ever let General Bragg be in charge of the Army of Tennessee to begin with. The man was obviously a fool. If only he could have been there, he could have showed those Yankees what for. Well time for another pass along the long wall on the gulf side. What he wouldn’t give to be down in the officer’s barracks sipping Kentucky bourbon and smoking a fine Virginia cigar right now. This would be the saddest Christmas John had ever known, he thought, no family, no real friends, no Christmas feast, no gifts and no fiddle music. John really missed his old rose wood fiddle on quiet nights like this.
Suddenly John heard a noise on the beach in front of him, he turned, took a defensive stance with his fifty-four-caliber Enfield musket and yelled, “Halt, who goes there, approach and be recognized”. The figure of a tall man slowly came forward in the dim moonlit night. He was wearing a dark wool suit with a short brimmed hat, a bowed tie and oddly enough no overcoat on such a bitter cold night as this. Not exactly what John was accustomed to seeing out here in the middle of no-where. “Merry Christmas John” the tall stranger said. “Do I know you suh?” John replied. “John I have a message for you, would it be alright if I come in and shared your fire?” John was somewhat panic stricken, he knew he should call the Officer on watch but somehow it just didn’t seem right this time. “Come around to the gate friend, and I will vouch fo ya entrance” replied the nervous and shaken southern born Corporal. Strangely enough, the gate guards were in agreement with John on seeing no harm in allowing the stranger to enter the fortress. John walked back across the gate archway, the steel plates of his brogan shoes clacking like a horse crossing a wooden bridge with each step he took on the red brick floor. The stranger was close behind and oddly enough walking a silent soft step. As John arrived back at his post it was time for the changing of the guard and his replacement acquired his frozen perch upon the wall. John once again walked over to the small fire and picked up his smoke painted mucket to sip the hot liquid once identified as coffee.
“How have you been doing tonight John? ” asked the stranger with concern in his voice. “I’m doing all right I reckon. This ain’t exactly like the stretch of Alabama I’m used ta, there ain’t no wah hea and this shore ain’t Christmas.” Replied a weary John. “John, it does not matter where you celebrate the Saviors birth my friend. Do you know the Christmas story of Jesus?” the stranger asked. “Yea I heared about it in church back home. My ma made me attend every Sunday whether I wanted to or not” was the reply of John. The skies were very clear and crisp this night, as the light in the fort grew brighter.
A star high above began to shine especially bright illuminating even the black 50 pound long range ordinance rifles mounted at the forts Gulf side walls. “John, Jesus was born in Bethlehem, he was without sin. He healed the sick, raised the dead, and John, Jesus died for you and the sins you have committed in your life. Did you know that?” gently spoke the stranger. “yea, I heared about all that, but I reckon I believed it was just a yarn. How do you know all this anyway? Who are you?” retorted a now very nervous John. “John your mother has been praying for you. She is so concerned that you will not make Heaven your home. She has petitioned the throne of God in your behalf. My name is Joshua and I am an Angel sent of God. Do you have a bible John?” asked the stranger. “ yes suh, I got one I been toten here in my havasack my ma ma give me.” Came John’s teary reply. “Get it out John and turn to John 3:16. It reads For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. John you are whosoever my young friend. God loves you and all you need do is accept him in your heart, ask him to forgive you for your sin and you shall be saved.” Joshua explained. John was overwhelmed by these words. How could God love him so much and yet in his heart he knew the words of this angel were true. John fell to his knees and cried out “Jesus, I’m sorry I been so miserable and bad. I repent Lord, please forgive me, I want to go to heaven, I give my life to you Lord.” As John opened his eyes he felt like he was a new man. He had so much joy in his heart now; it did not matter that he had nothing to eat but stale bread and old coffee.
It did not matter that he was cold and alone from his family. What matters is that on this Christmas day in 1863, John received a gift more precious than gold. He received eternal life. “Angel this has been the greatest Christmas ever, Angel? Angel? Where did you go?” John shouted looking around but there was no sign of his angelic visitor. John ran to the huge oak and iron gates and asked the guard if he had let the visitor out. The guard said he had seen no one all night. Returning back to the place he last saw the visitor John looked down and saw one snow white feather. He picked it up and placed it in his little testament. With tears in his eyes John thought, as much as his dear ma ma loved him, Jesus must love him so much more to send one of his angels to speak to him. John’s heart was strangely warm and full.
With a huge grin from ear to ear, John walked over to the casemate where two other soldiers were trying to keep warm over a small smolder pot and began to tell them of his visitor and the change he had experienced. John opened his bible and began to read out loud Luke 2:11 “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior which is Christ the Lord.” As John read under the light of a dim candle lantern, more soldiers gathered around and listened intently to the story of Jesus. There were no fiery preachers, brush arbor meetings, or heavy religious services tonight. There was only the love of a savior and the open hearts of soldiers and yet tonight there would be another six conversions before dawn. On this night, the celebration of the Saviors birth, there would be re-births here on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico in a little insignificant brick and mortar fortress called Fort Gaines. Where unknowingly in only nine months a Union Navy column of war ships would bombard this sleepy little Fort and send John and his comrade’s into the arms of their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. This was truly the greatest Christmas gift.
Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © Dec. 6, 1998
It was an uncommonly cold Christmas here on the Gulf of Mexico. Corporal John Downs was trying to keep warm by the small fire built in the courtyard of Fort Gaines. He knelt down with his tin mucket of strong muddy coffee and sat it once again over the red coals of oak and pine. The smoke rose high above the cold stone walls of the small fort into the strong winter wind blowing just above the stone barrier walls. Guard duty was a lonely job, not exactly the type of position John had envisioned when he signed up with the Confederate States Army last spring. He had a vision of grandeur, as he would march gloriously across a bloody battlefield for The Confederate States of America, the great state of Alabama and Robert E. Lee into a blaze of Glory. Not to be stuck down here in this God forsaken marsh land to protect Mobile Bay from the Yankee Navy.
This had been a very bad year for the confederacy, only last month losing Chattanooga Tennessee to General Grant and the Union Army. John still wonders how President Davis could have ever let General Bragg be in charge of the Army of Tennessee to begin with. The man was obviously a fool. If only he could have been there, he could have showed those Yankees what for. Well time for another pass along the long wall on the gulf side. What he wouldn’t give to be down in the officer’s barracks sipping Kentucky bourbon and smoking a fine Virginia cigar right now. This would be the saddest Christmas John had ever known, he thought, no family, no real friends, no Christmas feast, no gifts and no fiddle music. John really missed his old rose wood fiddle on quiet nights like this.
Suddenly John heard a noise on the beach in front of him, he turned, took a defensive stance with his fifty-four-caliber Enfield musket and yelled, “Halt, who goes there, approach and be recognized”. The figure of a tall man slowly came forward in the dim moonlit night. He was wearing a dark wool suit with a short brimmed hat, a bowed tie and oddly enough no overcoat on such a bitter cold night as this. Not exactly what John was accustomed to seeing out here in the middle of no-where. “Merry Christmas John” the tall stranger said. “Do I know you suh?” John replied. “John I have a message for you, would it be alright if I come in and shared your fire?” John was somewhat panic stricken, he knew he should call the Officer on watch but somehow it just didn’t seem right this time. “Come around to the gate friend, and I will vouch fo ya entrance” replied the nervous and shaken southern born Corporal. Strangely enough, the gate guards were in agreement with John on seeing no harm in allowing the stranger to enter the fortress. John walked back across the gate archway, the steel plates of his brogan shoes clacking like a horse crossing a wooden bridge with each step he took on the red brick floor. The stranger was close behind and oddly enough walking a silent soft step. As John arrived back at his post it was time for the changing of the guard and his replacement acquired his frozen perch upon the wall. John once again walked over to the small fire and picked up his smoke painted mucket to sip the hot liquid once identified as coffee.
“How have you been doing tonight John? ” asked the stranger with concern in his voice. “I’m doing all right I reckon. This ain’t exactly like the stretch of Alabama I’m used ta, there ain’t no wah hea and this shore ain’t Christmas.” Replied a weary John. “John, it does not matter where you celebrate the Saviors birth my friend. Do you know the Christmas story of Jesus?” the stranger asked. “Yea I heared about it in church back home. My ma made me attend every Sunday whether I wanted to or not” was the reply of John. The skies were very clear and crisp this night, as the light in the fort grew brighter.
A star high above began to shine especially bright illuminating even the black 50 pound long range ordinance rifles mounted at the forts Gulf side walls. “John, Jesus was born in Bethlehem, he was without sin. He healed the sick, raised the dead, and John, Jesus died for you and the sins you have committed in your life. Did you know that?” gently spoke the stranger. “yea, I heared about all that, but I reckon I believed it was just a yarn. How do you know all this anyway? Who are you?” retorted a now very nervous John. “John your mother has been praying for you. She is so concerned that you will not make Heaven your home. She has petitioned the throne of God in your behalf. My name is Joshua and I am an Angel sent of God. Do you have a bible John?” asked the stranger. “ yes suh, I got one I been toten here in my havasack my ma ma give me.” Came John’s teary reply. “Get it out John and turn to John 3:16. It reads For God so loved the world he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. John you are whosoever my young friend. God loves you and all you need do is accept him in your heart, ask him to forgive you for your sin and you shall be saved.” Joshua explained. John was overwhelmed by these words. How could God love him so much and yet in his heart he knew the words of this angel were true. John fell to his knees and cried out “Jesus, I’m sorry I been so miserable and bad. I repent Lord, please forgive me, I want to go to heaven, I give my life to you Lord.” As John opened his eyes he felt like he was a new man. He had so much joy in his heart now; it did not matter that he had nothing to eat but stale bread and old coffee.
It did not matter that he was cold and alone from his family. What matters is that on this Christmas day in 1863, John received a gift more precious than gold. He received eternal life. “Angel this has been the greatest Christmas ever, Angel? Angel? Where did you go?” John shouted looking around but there was no sign of his angelic visitor. John ran to the huge oak and iron gates and asked the guard if he had let the visitor out. The guard said he had seen no one all night. Returning back to the place he last saw the visitor John looked down and saw one snow white feather. He picked it up and placed it in his little testament. With tears in his eyes John thought, as much as his dear ma ma loved him, Jesus must love him so much more to send one of his angels to speak to him. John’s heart was strangely warm and full.
With a huge grin from ear to ear, John walked over to the casemate where two other soldiers were trying to keep warm over a small smolder pot and began to tell them of his visitor and the change he had experienced. John opened his bible and began to read out loud Luke 2:11 “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior which is Christ the Lord.” As John read under the light of a dim candle lantern, more soldiers gathered around and listened intently to the story of Jesus. There were no fiery preachers, brush arbor meetings, or heavy religious services tonight. There was only the love of a savior and the open hearts of soldiers and yet tonight there would be another six conversions before dawn. On this night, the celebration of the Saviors birth, there would be re-births here on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico in a little insignificant brick and mortar fortress called Fort Gaines. Where unknowingly in only nine months a Union Navy column of war ships would bombard this sleepy little Fort and send John and his comrade’s into the arms of their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. This was truly the greatest Christmas gift.
Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © Dec. 6, 1998
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