Christmas Story : A Christian Carol

A CHRISTIAN CAROL

“I don’t care what you have to do, Mr. Cravachek, I want that front lawn mowed and raked today. Either see that it is done or do it yourself. Do I make myself clear? You are not the first nor will you be the last associate pastor I have hired and fired.” Pastor Rooge exclaimed in anger. The small church was known for it’s humanitarian work during the Christmas Holidays and during times of community disasters.

Pastor Rooge was a very demanding man who was a third generation minister. His father was a God’s Brigade pastor until his death in 1978 and was a very harsh man with rigid ways like his son. Many days Pastor Norman Rooge would become angry and without warning lash out. As Robert Cravachek carried out his assignment, his heart was heavy. When he had applied for entrance in the God’s Brigade seminary, he felt led to be a pastor that would make a difference. He felt that his calling was of God, but since coming here to this small outpost, Pastor Rooge had all but broken his spirit. Time and time again Robert had seen Pastor Rooge lose his temper and lash out at his employees uncontrollably. How could God tolerate such a man calling himself a man of God when his heart seemed so cold? This question would have to be left to the Lord since Robert knew he must be obedient to the governing structure of the church to complete his internship here.

Pastor Rooge walked briskly down the freshly painted white hallway to his plush office to call the church accountant about the balance in the indigent account. If the budget would allow, he planned to transfer funds he considered surplus to the transportation fund. After all, that van he was driving was five years old and it was high time he looked into something with a little more comfort for his long trips to headquarters in Atlanta. As he lifted the receiver there was a knock on the archway of his office door. “Pastor, excuse me but we have a young married couple in my office that are stranded here on their way to a job in Florida. They have a two-month old son with them and they have not eaten since yesterday. Is their anyway we can help them sir?” humbly asked the associate Pastor Cravachek. “I told you there were no more funds for this month Mr. Cravachek. Obviously you do not chose to listen to me.” Yelled the half-startled Pastor. “But sir, these young people have a young child that must be cared for. Are we not supposed to show our fellow man compassion and help them as Jesus would help them?” replied the now frustrated associate. “Mr. Cavachek, when we set up this fund you were told how much we were to give out per month. We met that obligation today at 10:00 am and are not in a position to give out one dime more. Now I am busy and one more word will get you a letter of insubordination to Atlanta. Do I make myself clear?” said Pastor Rooge as he shook with fury. “Yes sir, Pastor Rooge, I am sorry to have bothered you sir.” Was the weak reply of Robert as he turned and walked away taking his wallet from his back pocket and removed the only money he had to give to the needy couple.

Robert could not believe his ears. Pastor Rooge professed to be such a great man of God and yet on Christmas Eve he did not even try to help these poor people, these way ward children of the Lord. Robert gave the small bills to the couple and told them of a house he knew of that was a dry place to stay until he could do the paper work. He would come down and get them when Pastor Rooge was gone. One day he thought, one day Pastor Rooge will be held accountable for the greed and coldness he displays. One day this man will have to give an account of his life and God will be his judge. But today Robert was going to help these people and then rush home to his young bride and daughter. After all, it was Christmas Eve and on his meager salary there was barely enough to have a Christmas ham, much less nice gifts but he did get to go to Dollar Heaven and buy a few inexpensive gifts to put beneath the tree. He would just enjoy the three long days of Christmas magic with his family and thank his Lord for his birth and goodness.

Pastor Rooge got off the phone in somewhat a better mood. The accountant said there was some twenty-two thousand dollars left over in this year’s indigent budget and it would be possible to transfer it next week. Well time to end a perfect day with a heart rendering message to the people that donated this year to the indigent fund and to wish them all a Merry Christmas. It would only take about thirty minutes to record down at the local TV station and they would play if until after New Years. That would most certainly get a few more thousand donations to top off a great year. Why the Pastor even thought he would incorporate that little thank you speech into his old sermon from last Christmas that he planned to give this Sunday. That would dress it up a bit so no one would recognize it.


It was nearly 8:00 when the weary Pastor arrived home from his daily deluge of activity. His wife Janice was already in bed for the night and he was glad. She had always so many questions of how his day went and he was not in the mood to answer them tonight. He reached into the warm oven, took out his dried out fried chicken dinner and went into his study to go over his budget for next year. As he finished the figures on monthly indigent expenditures, he dropped his pen and his head sank slowly to the desktop. He had only been asleep for thirty minutes when the Queen Anne clock on the wall began to chime. On the third chime Pastor Rooge awakened, at first startled and then his eyes began to focus. Standing in front of his finely carved mahogany desk was a rather large glowing figure of a being. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house sir?” shrieked the startled pastor. “Norman Rooge, I am an Angel sent of God. I have been sent to you by my Lord to warn you of your impending doom if you continue the course you have chosen in God’s name” spoke the mighty Angel of the Lord. “The Lord Jesus came to you this day, and you turned him away. He asked of you for food to eat and for a place to stay. You told him you had no more allotted money for food or lodging for indigent persons. Many chances this day he gave you and yet you would show him no mercy. Today the Great God Jehovah has granted you a gift. In the name of my Lord, so be it” shouted the angelic being and as suddenly as he had appeared he was gone. Norman screamed “Wait, what is it I am to receive? Am I to be judged tonight? Angel where are you? “ blurted out an anxious and frightened Norman Rooge.

Suddenly there was a blinding bolt of lightning through the air and as Norman shielded his eyes and turned away, he slowly removed his hands from his face and discovered he was now outside of the little mission church. The air was very windy and cold and the rain began to whip across his face and body. He must have come outside daydreaming and left his coat inside. He walked to the front door of the little building and walked to the reception desk. “Lucy, I seem to have forgotten my keys, buzz me in” said the aggravated pastor. “I am sorry sir, but you must have an appointment to come inside here and Pastor Cravacheck is not seeing anymore clients today. If you would like you can take a card and try again tomorrow,” Lucy said with a smile. “Lucy, I am the Pastor here now open up this door and let me in or you are fired Christmas or not” the furious Pastor replied. “Sir, let go of that door, I am calling the police right now and you will be picked up. Now get out of here right now. You can go down the street to the park and sleep it off you vagrant” Lucy responded as she lifted the receiver from the hook and began to dial. Pastor Rooge looked at his torn blue jeans and dirty short sleeve shirt and was in a state of shock for several minutes before he began to realize he had to do something. He threw open the little glass door and darted out into the cold pelting rain. He would go over to the church salvage store and see if they would be kind enough to give him a coat for the night until he could straighten this mess out.

As he entered the door, a little bell rang announcing his arrival. He walked over to the rough man at the counter with a cigarette hanging from his lip and asked in a pleading voice. “Darren, I need a coat for a day or two until I can straighten this mess out. Could I have that thick fleece lined one on that hook? I will bring the money back later” Norman pleaded. “Look buddy, I told you before, the boss said no more free-bees and that means no more free-bees. You got money, you gotcha self a coat. You ain’t got no money and you gotcha self a trip to the door. No exceptions. No money? I didn’t think so”. Darren bellowed as he grabbed Norman by the collar and tossed him into the street.

Norman was now cold and hungry as he walked along the back of the building looking for something to cover with. He reached down into the dumpster behind the little store and found a torn gray wool blanket that smelled as though it had been used in someone’s dog bed. It smelled rather rank but it served its purpose well as Norman cloaked it around his body. He continued to walk down the street to an old abandoned house he had passed for nearly two years on his way to work. The pains in his stomach were beginning to demand more attention now as he crawled through a broken window at the old leaky home. He found a corner where the rain seemed to miss and crouched down low, shivering as his blanket dripped puddles on the rotting floor. He looked up to the heavens and cried out from deep within his soul “Jesus, I’m sorry Lord, please forgive me. I know I was wrong and stold from you and your kingdom. Please Lord give me another chance, I will be a real pastor if that is what you want. I will take care of the poor just as you cared for them. Lord I will comfort and protect you children, if only you would give me another chance to do so. Jesus are you listening? Angel, are you still there? Dear God what have I done ?” Norman shrieked as he collapsed his head into his hands. Suddenly the winds and the rain stopped and Pastor Norman lifted his head to see the familiar surroundings of his little office. His Queen Anne clock still ticking away and with the gentle glow of his desk lamp. “ My Lord, you heard the cry of your sinful servant and you rescued me from my sins. I will serve you and rescue the lost sheep for the rest of my days. I will preach your word with passion and fire, for you are my redeemer and I am you child, your humble servant” Pastor Norman humbly said in a much different tone than a few hours ago.

Pastor was as good as his word. He got up from his desk, ran out to the little salvage store and picked up as many blankets and coats as the church van would carry. He then drove over to the food warehouse and loaded the front seat and floorboard with canned goods and meats from the freezers. Off he went singing and praising God to the top of his voice. His first stop was the Robert Cravacheck’s home. He would drop off a ham and some canned goods and of course a $100 bonus just for a start. Then to the old house where he knew he would find the young couple. After all it was Christmas and he could certainly afford to put them up for Christmas in a motel. In fact he knew where there were funds to help many more of God’s children. Hearing him talking under his breath, Robert Cravachek asked if he might help. Pastor Norman with tears in his eyes turned to the young associate pastor and said “my brother, I would be honored if you would accompany me while we do God’s work”. They got up into the van and drove off into the night singing and praising God. Today was the beginning of ministry for Norman Rooge. Today he heard the call of God.

Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © December 25,1998

Easter Poem- Crimson Flow

Crimson Flow
The crimson flow traveled down the tree
Dripping upon the earth for all the world to see.
Nail pierced hands did not cause this crimson flow.
Though the pain to bare alone was an awesome blow.

A spear pierced side allowed the water to pour
Mixing with the blood, the flow became more.
Upon the ground, the crimson red did soak.
Taking on from men a painful eternal yoke.

As the crimson spread from the replanted tree
The thunder roared loadly and hell’s locks exploded free.
Down from the hill the stream did rush,
Sickness and death this crimson stream did crush.

The crimson flow was power and Holy Fire
Setting the captives free, creating a Holy desire
So much flowing blood to come from just one man
To cover every soul and sweeping every land.

From Heaven this crimson flow did come,
It watered the earth, sprinkling all not some.
Flowing to hell by way of a grave,
Resurrected in three days all men to save.

Then ascending back up to heaven again,
Taking with it death and repented sin.
Jesus was God and then Jesus was man.
Salvation was for all when the crimson blood ran.

Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © March 13, 1999

Short Story: The Empty Manger

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 breath 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. And still across the street was Pastor Peter’s home and a group of boys 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 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 began to scream out “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 evil intention. 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 to the grass. In front of him again was the tall stranger. He knelt down to Charlie in 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 ” as he disappeared into the night.

written by Terry L Richardson
copyright©Nov. 21, 2010

WAKE UP CHURCHES AND PATRIOTS !!!

Today is my day to rant a little so you liberals gather up a little spit for the screen and you conservatives get ready to say amen. For starters, everyone has an opinion and I am sure there will be those both ministers and heathen alike who will disagree with me but here goes. It’s time to get back to the basics. We have too many fat cat preachers driving $1000 designer suits, living in mega mansions, driving expensive imports worrying about losing their tax exempt status. Let them sell off their mansions, jets and luxury cars and get back to the job of the church again. The separation of church and state was not to protect the government from the church but to protect the church from the government. It’s time to tell the government to DROP the tax exempt status off the churches so that the churches can once again have a say so in our political arena. Without the governments tax exempt removal threats, the government HAS to listen to what the church has to say.

Secondly, every church with an attorney in its congregation needs to file a law suit AGAINST the ACLU. With thousands of law suits filed tying up their financial and human assets, you would break their financial back and down they would go. Once the ACLU is history, the CHRISTIAN MAJORITY can once again stand tall and have a voice without fear of a court room.

Third, every time you hear of a Tea Party close by, attend it. When every city in our nation has thousands of people in attendance, the politicians will take notice and begin backing down and yes even Bela Pelosi (ok for you young uns, that was a play on another blood sucker vampire star named Bela Lugosi) will have to take flight in the light of truth. (If that doesn’t work drive a stake through her heart)

Forth and last… GET INVOLVED!!!! Don’t sit on the side lines, get involved. We can’t wait for someone else to do it because we Americans have been conditioned to be lazy. We always thing someone else will step up and do it so we can keep watching our idiot tubes, play on our computers and android phones and keep our heads in the sand.

This week Mr. Obama decided to recite a portion of our Declaration of Indolence stating “We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal, endowed with certain inalienable rights, life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Notice something missing? He decided like so many times lately to remove our “Creator”. The correct sentence is “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain ... Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

"Freedom prospers when religion is vibrant and the rule of law under God is acknowledged."~Ronald Reagan There.... I feel better now.

Poem: Already a Part of the Wall

This poem is for all the many men and women who gave EVERYTHING to the service of their country in the Vietnam War.


Already Part of the Wall

Over 58,000 names and more to recall
All written in the granite of the Vietnam Wall
The names not seen, walking silent shells
Already part of the wall living personal hells.

Brian flew air cav delivering bodies of breath
Picking up silent silhouettes, a Huey of tragic death.
42 years of memories, a mind locked in a replay hall
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Clifton came back home in the year of 68
Safe away from the Nam but a little too late.
A door gunner issuing fifty cal balls
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Debra was a nurse, the 85th Evac staged near a battle line.
Piecing together shredded boys, ordered no tearing signs.
In 70 she came home, her mind in constant fall.
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Johnny was a blueleg, full of life and M-16 power he’d brag.
Two tours and wishing for death all friends sent home in a bag
Now living under a highway bridge, two blocks from the local mall.
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Over 58,000 names and still counting a faster crawl
All written in the granite of memories known as the Vietnam Wall
The names not seen, minds walking silent in a Nam so small.
Still walking among the living, already a part of the wall.

Written by Terry L Richardson
Copyright © July 18, 2010
Patriot Guard Rider
This poem dedicated to all the brave men and women
Who served in the Vietnam War.

Independence had a Price

Independence had a Price

So many American people think of July fourth
As a holiday away from work down south and up north
A time to gather friends together and cook burgers on the grill
A time to go boating at the beach, just another day off if you will.

But at what great price was this summer holiday given to us,
How many lives were worn out and lost over this freedom fuss.
Have we remembered that under God we as one great nation,
Took arms against Great Britain so we could have our liberation?

Why don’t we teach that Samuel Adams was to God a devoted man?
Ben Franklin’s established prayers before Congress to this day stand.
“This great nation was founded not by religionists but by Christians” Patrick Henry said.
“Not on religions but on the Gospel of Jesus Christ” were words that Patrick led.

On July 2,1776 General George Washington said in a letter written from our sod
“The fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God
on the courage of this army !” words of a man not given to having faith in the earth.
But faith in an Almighty God and in Jesus Christ from this nation’s beginning birth.

In November of 1863 President Lincoln said in his Gettysburg Address
“This nation, under God shall have a new birth of freedom” he did confess.
When the Constitution of this great Nation separated church from state,
It was not to protect the State from our churches but the Churches from our State.

In 1781 Thomas Jefferson stated words that are written on his memorial in DC
This words that rings so true “God who gave us life, gave us Liberty”
Sir Isaac Newton wrote in 1704 these words that he knew in his heart for all to see
“There is one, God the Father, ever-living, omnipresent, omniscient, almighty,

“The maker of heaven and earth, and one Mediator between God and man,
the man Christ Jesus” that was what Sir Isaac Newton did understand.
On the death bed of Sir Walter Scott, he was asked which book to him be read.
He replied “Need you ask? There is but one! - St. John’s Gospel” Sir Walter said.

So on this July Fourth when you stand and watch the fire works celebration
Remember the great men of The United States of America that gave all for their great Nation.
Remember the men who fought and died, to keep this country free.
And the God that allowed us Victory over tyrants, because we came to him on bended knee.

Written By Terry L. Richardson © July 4, 1998

AWAKE AMERICA

AWAKE AMERICA

Awake America, from a slumber that’s grown cold
Your heart beats ever so slowly
Is your death very soon to unfold?

Awake America, your God is calling out your name.
Repent from your wicked ways,
Throw off your garments of shame.

Awake America, it is not too late to turn around.
The Lord God is waiting to forgive you.
Open your eyes that his face may be found.

Awake America, let the blood of Christ flow through your veins.
Stand up to your feet and hold steady.
Tell the world once again that your God reigns.

Awake America, as your forefathers before you did.
Founding this country for religious freedoms
Tearing it away from Satan’s tangled grid.

Awake America, please hear this humbled cry
If we don’t awaken from Satan’s lullaby singing
One nation under God will soon die.
Written by Terry L.Richardson
Copyright © Aug.2, 1999

How is Your Patriotic Footprint?

Yeah I know it’s been a month since I wrote a blog but this has been a week to reflect and wonder. Spring is here, nature has gushed forward with a world of wonder and excitement and mans hope is renewed. This being said, there have been some mixed and sad events this spring as well. Being an active Patriot Guard Rider I have had both honor and sadness in participation of several funerals and memorials. The latest being the final burial of a B-17G bomber crewman from Pensacola whose aircraft went down to what must have been like descending into hell for this young man. Nineteen years old and suddenly he was aboard a heavy bomber doing his duty for GOD and country in the skies over Germany. Do you remember what you were doing at nineteen? Maybe you were preparing for college or experiencing your first year of college. Maybe you had just entered the workforce for the first time since becoming an adult. Maybe you were still living at home trying to decide what to do with your life. This boy made the decision to join the Army Air Force to protect his country and met death head on.

I found an article on the internet from a WWII vet who was also in the skies in a B-17 bomber that day. His memoires told of seeing a B-17G aircraft by the name of Towering Titan take a hit to a starboard engine that began to flame up and smoke. He said the pilots extinguished the flames but now with reduced power had to dump their bomb load and make a run for home. When a B-17 bomber became damaged and had to turn back over enemy territory they were sitting ducks for the enemy fighters and the other B-17s in the formation could only watch most likely what would be the last time the crew would ever be seen again alive. This B-17 airman said in his writings the last thing he saw of Towering Titan was the rear gunner waving bye to him as she took that deep right turn toward home. A short time later one of Hitler’s new weapons, a Jet powered aircraft, would slam into that wing and send the Towering Titan to her death. TSGT Walter Adell McClellan would make it to a hatch in time to parachute out to a new hell waiting for him below. He would be captured but the Nazi SS, tortured and then coldly executed by the Nazi SS. It would be 65 years before anyone knew of his fate, bravery and sacrifice. .

It was a bitter sweet victory for Sgt McClellan’s family. He was finally coming home to hallowed ground but nearly all but one that knew and remembered him had already passed on. There is few living that truly understands the sacrifices of the greatest generation, to remember not of his life, but of the valor in death. We don’t know of his childhood but we do know of his decision to sacrifice his life at only 19 yrs of age for his country. Would we have heard of him had his body not been found in Germany and identified? Do we know of others lost in WWII, The Korean War, and the Vietnam War? Probably not and chances are we haven’t even thought of them and shortly after this article will not think of them again.

There are 3,350 still missing from WWI, 8,215 still missing from The Korean War, 2005 still missing from the Vietnam War and 78,750 still missing from WWII. That is a total of 92,320 American Heroes still missing in battlefields around the world just so that we can sleep at night without fear of the Adolph Hitler’s of the world.

Forget about the leaving a carbon footprint garbage, fifty years from now will anyone remember you for your carbon footprint, that you drove a Prius and didn’t use tree products? No one will care, no one will remember. But if you took up arms against the enemies of your country, against those who would threaten do destroy the very fiber of your God given right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, then the history books that accurately record that time in history will include your name whether as an individual or a group. This great nation did not arrive at freedoms door by accident, it scratched and crawled every step of the way through the blood of its citizens because of our belief in the ideals and people that make up the United States of America.

Our children and many of our people have no idea how close we came in WWII to having enemy troops back on our shores. They have no idea the sacrifices made by their parents and grandparents to make sure our troops were well fed and armed. Our automobile, sewing machine, many other manufacturers gave up the profits to produce weapons, tanks and aircraft that would be used to defeat the evil axis of Europe. Please don’t trivialize one single member of the United States Armed Forces, without them you would be speaking German, Japanese or maybe even Arabic.

You say you have never been in the military and how can you make a patriotic footprint? It's quite easy actually. Ms Annie Schirmer is a late 70s grandmother who volunteers her time making up packages for our servicemen and women overseas. Every week she picks up soaps, shampoos and snacks boxes them up and mails them out. You may have never heard of Annie Schiramer but a lot of our military have.

Find yourself a veteran today, no matter the age or war and the more you find the better…. And THANK THEM for their service. They went so you wouldn’t have to. If you are a veteran reading this article…. THANK YOU for serving and protecting me and my family. Thank you for sacrificing your memories of childhood, friends and family for the horrors of war that still haunt you. Thank you for putting your life on the line unselfishly. You are now and will always be my HEROES. God bless you all and GOD BLESS AMERICA

What has Happened to our Society?

Do you remember (and I know these days you have to go deep into your memories for this) when such a thing as manners existed? People are so busy with their own lives they no longer consider others in their small sphere of existence. Yes I am even pointing a finger to myself. I always try to open doors for others, I try to remember to open the car door for my wife and please and thank you are usually my response for a kindness rendered but I hear those words less and less from our younger generations. Could it be that children are no longer being taught that valuable lesson in the privacy of their homes? Even now I will ask my wife for something or to do something and she has to remind me to “put a handle on it” which was the code of our parents to say please.

Manners are disarming. The next time you are at a restaurant and a female or even a male approaches a door you are near, try opening the door for them and see what their response will be. They will nine times out of ten say thank you (long lost programmed response from our childhood) and smile at you. This works equally well if you bump into someone and respond with an “excuse me”. You catch them off guard and they most always reply with a “no problem” even though you might have really just ticked them off (especially if they just spilled that $4.00 Starbucks Latte thanks to Mr. or Mrs. Clumsy).

I have thought of purchasing a pair of those Dr Shoals shoe inserts to see if it eases my anger the next time I get into a Wal-Mart 20 items or less Express line and there is a possible (or probable)illegal alien in front of me with 65 items and a hand full of government vouchers. Yeah I know that was too long a sentence teachers but it had to be said in one breath. That happened to me last week at our nearby Wally World. This young lady had a toddler in the basket and an eight and a half month bun in the oven. She was purchasing five gallons of milk, eight boxes of cereal and numerous other food items that could feed a small army. More than likely, there was a small army in her dwelling. Funny thing is, she didn’t appear to speak English when the cashier mentioned the larger than 20 number of items at this checkout but she was able to read (yes nosey me read them over her shoulder) the government WIC vouchers listing on the food items she had in the basket. Naturally this transaction called for management to help sort things out and about fifteen minutes on the clock. Ok… I’m rolling from manners to venting… sorry about that.

Another long lost pleasantry is the greeting. Good morning or good afternoon were always used in our childhoods when approaching a stranger on the street or sidewalk. Try even a “have a nice day” as corny as it may sound when leaving a restaurant or grocery store. Again it will disarm people and they will fire off an automatic smile. Of course there are times when those words can be used to take a dig into someone’s side as well. “Thank you for the ticket officer, you have a nice day” probably didn’t mean what you said because under your breath as he walked back toward his cruiser more than likely follow the word “jerk”. Of course after ten minutes or less riding down the road you realized you really where doing 78 in that 35 zone and deserved that ticket and it was YOU who were the jerk.(no I didnt get a ticket so don't ask)

Here is my last rambling for the day. We don’t thank people nearly enough for what they do for us. Now I am preaching to the choir here as well. The next time you are at a restaurant or anything where a service was performed well, acknowledge it. Say to the server something like “Hey I really appreciate your great service you gave me today” and even tell a manager. It costs you nothing and we certainly don’t hesitate to tell a manager when something was done wrong.

One final note and this one is the most important; when you see ANY servicemen or servicewomen anywhere, thank them for serving. They don’t have to be there. Our military is an all volunteer service and no one was drafted. They are there because they want to be there protecting their country. If you see an old veteran (and they usually wear a hat or pin or something out of pride of their country) thank them for serving and sacrificing. The general public has no idea what they sacrificed for our freedoms.

Well I said I was finished but I have to tell you one small story. My next door neighbor’s wife always seemed a little off. I thought she was a little mentally retarded but I never knew for sure. I did know he was a veteran but had no idea she was. I learned a few weeks back from her husband that she sacrificed far more than anyone around here knows. She was a field hospital nurse in the Vietnam War and saw far too many young men enter in pieces. In 1969 when her enlistment was over, she came home broken and was never able to function normally in society again. While it is true she is still alive, she sacrificed her mind for those boys. Remember to thank a vet guys, it’s the VERY LEAST we can do. Have a great day.

Short Story.. THE GREAT OAK TREE

I shared this story back in August 2009 and for the benefit a few that didnt read it, please indulge me. If you never read it, it will give you something to think about. It's called.. THE GREAT OAK TREE

My life is really quite simple, as I am sure you soon will see. It began in a small hole in the earth in the hills of Georgia were God allowed me to fall and be nourished. My small patch of ground lay on a small hillside beside a shallow pond. I have been here so long, I have seen so much and I could do so little to help those who have crossed my path. When I was but a small tree, not much more than a seedling actually, I stood and watched a buggy come down the little clay road and stop by me. A minister got out of his buggy and tied his carriage to my limbs. I watched him and a small group of people walk out into the pond. I stood and listened to his words. “I baptize thee in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost” he said. I enjoy hearing people speak of the creator in such a manner. I watched the Angels standing close by as they rejoiced at each rebirth. I waved my branches as the buggy pulled away.
Many days I offered shade to the children of the nearby plantations and farms. I often saw a trio of boys come and rest beneath my limbs and fish. I enjoyed watching the two brothers and the third, I once heard called a slave, yet I saw no evidence. There did not appear to be slavery among these childhood friends. Many times as I grew taller I would see them come down to the pond to fish or to swim. Many times they used a rope hung on my branches to swing out with a cry of joy as they splashed into the cool water. In my bark their names were carved with the words “Friends for life”. I enjoyed their company and often sighed at their departure.
One warm spring day I was just enjoying the songs of the birds when they suddenly stopped. I heard angry voices from over the hill coming toward me. There were many musket shots fired and many men firing at each other. I did not understand what was going on but then I saw the brothers coming. One brother came and hid behind me while the other was across the field. The brother behind me was wearing gray clothes, as were the other boys with him. The brother across the field was wearing blue, as were the other boys with him. I at first thought they were here to play and fish but to my horror the bullets were piercing my bark as they imbedded in frail flesh of the brother behind my trunk. There was so much hatred between them, I wished I could stop them but at last there was a conclusion to this deadly game. The blood of one brother still stains my trunk to this day. I still shade my young friend, as I always will, along with the unmarked graves of the others in the gray and blue clothes. I felt no joy this day nor for the many days to follow. Many times I watched boys fall and become part of the earth. Many times I watched as the angels cried tearfully while perched upon my branches. I watched as many men in blue clothes burned the small town over the hill. I watched as many farm houses and plantations burned with fury to the ground in a path of total destruction. I heard man cry in anguish for the loss of their homes and the loss of their families. There was so much anger and so much hate during these days. For four long years I did not hear the birds sing or the deer frolic. I lifted my branches to heaven and waved at the Lord but he did not smile. He was not pleased. One day after a very bloody fight I saw the Lord on the field. He was bent over a small dying boy who had a drum around his neck. The boy was coughing and trying to get up and the Lord knelt down, held his hand and wept. This was the worst day of my life on the earth. I have often wondered how man can be so cruel, how he could treat life so casual without regard for the Creator of life.
Several years had past and I was again to many times enjoy the company of people around the little pond. My branches are now long, tall and magnificent. I watched as the city over the hill grew with taller buildings and more people. One day I stood in the sparkling sunlight when a black man came to rest beneath my shade. I enjoyed his company, as he lay back against my bark and fished. I saw far away up on the hill angry men coming toward my fishing friend. I knew it was danger and tried to rustle my branches to warn him, but he did not notice. These men took my black friend and called him harsh names. I knew when the Angles sat on my limbs, there was trouble. These white men took my young friend and tied a rope around his neck and threw it over my branch. I had tried so to let it break but it was a strong branch. I watched in horror as the black man wiggled and died, I watched as the angels wept and I saw the Lord once again walk to me and weep. I had hoped I would not see this hate of man again but I it was not to be. The rope marks are still in my bark and I still feel his weight upon my limb. For many years I watched that hate; as black and white men and women would come to my shade in their automobiles and baptize their members. Always separate from one another, always cold to one another, and always baptizing in the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Ghost. I was even witness to a time when they argued who was at the pond first. I wanted to warn them of what I have seen but I could not so I sat in silence and watched. There were no angels today.
Many years have now gone by and I am old and some of my branches have decayed and fallen off. I am tired and I have seen so much in my life but today, I am in joy once again. Today many cars have come and parked beneath my massive branches and many people have gathered around the pond and me. I stand and listen and to my surprise many Angels come down and rest in my branches. They are so light I do not mind at all, I enjoy their company. I watch as the Lord comes up and leans against my bark, such a treat I have today. There are black people and white people, they are not angry, they are not fighting, they are not shooting muskets, but they are crying. I watch as two men wearing those blue and gray clothes exchange swords with one another. I hear them apologize for the crimes of their ancestors and then I watch them embrace. They then walk over to the black man and ask for his forgiveness as well to the conclusion of a heart felt embrace. There are two small choirs that now come together and sing in one accord. They do not see the third choir that forms in front of them, a choir of Angels that have joined them in praise to the creator. I am old and I have not many years to live on this earth but on this day I am blessed for I have seen my creator and his creation of man in one accord once again. I have witnessed the healing of his people and I have once again seen his shining face of joy and my life is complete. I am stooped over these days. I still have the bloodstain on my root, I still have the musket balls in my bark, I still feel the weight of a body on my branch, but I am content because I saw the Glory of God, and the healing of his creation man.

Written by Terry L. Richardson © Sept.22,1998
Trichar384@aol.com

I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE...

I have been sitting at my computer studying for an upcoming insurance exam and have been watching the news on a cable news channel. What has really stirred me is this latest controversy on the Pledge of Allegiance. How often we take our precious God founded nation for granted.

I watched a news clip where a congressman made a joke when the speaker asked the people in attendance of a meeting to say the Pledge of Allegiance. I sadly watched as others in the room grumbled and only half heartedly complied. I also swelled with pride when I think of several biker organizations I belong to starting their meetings with the pledge. CMA first says the Pledge of Allegiance to our nations colors and then to the Christian flag and then a prayer is given, Patriot Guard Riders starts their gatherings with the Pledge of Allegiance to our nation then a prayer over the days activities, ABATE of Florida local chapter starts their meetings with the Pledge of Allegiance and then a silent prayer and moment of silence for fallen soldiers and fellow bikers.

How awesome it would be if not only the Christian communities, but the secular communities as well could learn from many of our biker brothers and sisters. Many of our Parents and our children gave their lives to protect our nation. Who could have ever guess in the 1960’s and 70’s that there would ever be a possibility the Pledge of Allegiance would be considered offensive to AMERICANS and that something as simple cherished by our founders as a prayer would be as offensive as pornography in our schools.

Listen well to the few surviving members of our GREATEST GENERATION. They will tell you stories that have long been deleted from our children’s history books. Stories of faith and patriotism, of morality and decency and dependence on one another. We are slowly moving toward a time when there will be no one to lay down their lives for their nations, a time when your neighbor would be considered a revival instead of a neighbor. Webster’s dictionary says a person who shows kindliness or helpfulness toward his or her fellow humans: to be a neighbor to someone in distress.
That no longer describes the majority of neighbors next door to our homes does it?

The late great comedic American once said this about our flag and country. "Boys and girls, I have been listening to you recite the Pledge of Allegiance all semester and it appears that it has become monotonous to you or could it be you do not know the meaning of those words. If I may, I would like to recite the Pledge and give to you a definition of the words.
I----meaning me, an individual, a committee of one.
Pledge----dedicate all of my worldly goods to give without self pity.
Allegiance----my love and my devotion.
To the Flag----our standard, Old Glory, a symbol of freedom. Wherever she waves, there is respect because your loyalty has given her a dignity that shouts freedom is everybody's job.
Of the United----that means that we have all come together.
States----individual communities that have united into 48 great states. 48 individual communities with pride and dignity and purpose, all divided with imaginary boundaries, yet united to a common cause, and that's love of country.
Of America.
And to the Republic----a republic, a state in which sovereign power is invested in representatives chosen by the people to govern. And government is the people and it's from the people to the leaders, not from the leaders to the people.
For which it stands!
One nation----meaning, so blessed by God.
Indivisible----incapable of being divided.
With Liberty----which is freedom and the right of power to live one's life without threats or fear or any sort of retaliation.
And justice----The principle and quality of dealing fairly with others.
For all.----which means, boys and girls, it's as much your country as it is mine."

Since I was a small boy, two states have been added to our nation, and two words have been added to the Pledge of Allegiance "under God." Wouldn't it be a pity if someone said, "That's a prayer" and that would be eliminated from schools, too? ~ Red Skelton

What is it going to take to get us back to that level of patriotism and Christianity? Do you remember those brief few days after 9/11 when we became one nation under God. When NO one threatened to sue you for invoking God’s protection and blessings? Surely the ACLU offices must have been closed. Do you remember how our only concern was for our fellow Americans in that rubble? The nations attorneys must have been on vacation. Do you remember everyone wanted to go to New York and Washington DC to help? The UAW must have gone on extended lunch. What is it going to take to make this nation whole again? It doesn’t have to start with a disaster; it can start with just a simple gesture of human kindness to a neighbor or even a complete stranger. One NATION UNDER GOD, INDIVISIBLE with LIBERTY and JUSTICE for ALL. We have the power and God given authority. Will me use it or will we be used. We have the choice. God bless America.

TREASURES FROM THE PAST..I THINK

My dear friend River Jordan managed to break a cob web away from my rusted old mind. She talked about lost things on her radio show up in Nashville. The older I get the more things I seem to lose. Sometimes I lose them for a few minutes and sometimes I lose them for a few years. Don’t you love finding things you lost for years? It’s like discovering a time capsule. They are often just the way you left them. Ok, if it was a live animal you might want to let that sleeping dog lie… so to speak.

A few weeks ago I found a cash box I had forgotten about 10 yrs ago in a storage box. It was quite heavy and when I lifted it, I felt like I had discovered Davy Jones locker. I carefully placed it on a table and slowly unlocked and opened the box. My mind was racing, could I have left it full of silver dollars, maybe bags of mercury dimes or perhaps even a stack or two of twenty dollar bills? As I opened the lid, the mystery was quickly over, it was full of pennies. Yeah great… I was cheap back then too… go figure.

Probably one of my greatest finds was an attaché case of Boy Scout memorabilia. What a rush, there were patrol record books of friends long forgotten (although many are now on Face book). Merit badges, and an old black and white photograph or two, several neckerchief’s, order of the arrow book and several merit badges I earned over 40 ago, yes I said 40 yrs ago.

Ok here is the weird part; I also found a 1972 GIRL SCOUT calendar. Must have been from one of those Girl Scout camp raids at Camp Blue Springs in the sand hills of Bay County. That box had a little bit of everything in it. I even found some 45 yr old Valentines from classmates like Jenny Everitt and Julie Coleman. The good news is I get to relive those memories all over again as I went through that brief case.

Now that we have covered the good, let’s take a look at the bad. I found a lotto ticket where I won $50 back in 1994. That hurt, I won’t look at old lotto tickets anymore, I’m afraid what the next one will I also found my set of keys to my old red Yamaha Venture that I lost when I moved to this home two years ago. I had to load up my Venture on a trailer and haul it to a locksmith where I paid him $75 to re-key all my locks. I took my bike back home and when I got up the next morning to ride, I stepped on… you guessed it… my old set of keys. I’m pretty sure a gopher picked them up and was messing with me that morning by throwing them down where I would surely find them.

Ok we finally get to the worst scenario of this article. Surely you will remember doing this. You are looking through your closet or shop when it suddenly occurs to you, you haven’t seen some object in a long time and have no idea what happened to it. I had that happened to me when somehow I lost a 38 caliber revolver a few years ago. I looked everywhere and the only thing I could think of was that I hid it somewhere at my old house in Callaway and didn’t get to go get it before I moved out. Bummer, it was my first hand gun purchased on my 21st birthday. For some of you gun control freaks out there it’s not such a great loss but for a born and bread southern boy, it’s like losing a member of the family. I guess my musing is over for today I just hope I remember to push send when I submit this article. Have a great week.

Another Hero Lost to Time

Yesterday I rode once again with the Patriot Guard of Northwest Florida to honor another national hero. This gentleman was perhaps not known anyone reading this blog but he was as important a citizen as George Patton. His name was Arthur Leonard Williams. Arthur was a well loved man among his friends, church and family. He passed away after 91 years of life. He was an American of African heritage and a patriot thru and thru. Arthur was one of approximately 30 surviving Tuskegee Airman. He flew his P-51 Mustang during World War II protecting our heavy bombers and if not for he and his gallant squadron many people would not be here today to enjoy this land of the free and home of the brave. In 2002 Arthur was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal, the nation’s highest civilian honor, for his service with the Tuskegee Airmen.

I watched from my position of flag bearer as many elderly men and women filled the little church in Pensacola. Some were barely able to climb the steps of the 130 year old church building but with an apparent determination to make every step to the top. We assisted many and many more thanked us but preferred to make the climb themselves. I am sure that is the same determination that lived in the heart of Arthur.

I listened as friend after friend stepped to the small podium and shared a memory of a friend that will be most sorely missed. The great majority of attendees were senior citizens not too far behind Arthur. I felt sadness that there were not a lot younger people in the congregation. Perhaps it’s because Arthurs sacrifice was so long ago they had not heard. That same sadness came over me again thinking that all the treasures locked up in Arthurs mind are now gone from our nation’s archives. Many questions never asked that could no doubt have filled many history books.

It makes me wonder, had the local schools known about this extra ordinary citizen, would they have attended this funeral? Had they known Arthur was one of the greatest generation whom came between them and a life dictatorship, would they have come? Where were the news crews, the news paper men and the reporters? Was it not at least as good a story as a politician caught with his hands in the cookie jar?

We are losing these members of the greatest generation at a number of more than 1000 per day. If you find one of these national treasures (and by find I mean seek them out) be sure and sit down with them and spend some time listening to their stories. Write it down or tape it with a tape recorder but remember when the Patriot Guard Riders are standing a flag line for these gems, there will be no more time for stories or questions. Remember the words well of George Santayana: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

MATTHEW 27, 1 thru 54 if Written Today..my version

If Matthew had been written today in America, I believe Matthew 27 would have taken place like this......

It was still early in the morning when all the men and women of Congress and the Speaker of the house came in to the Congressional chambers. They had toiled all night with what to do and came to a decision that it would start riots in the streets to let Jesus go. What he was trying to do was go against a constitutional amendment. He KNEW that there could be no religion in the schools and work places but he just kept on spreading his stories to the people. He was told he could not have an unlawful assembly without permits but he kept on ministering. Again and again he was told healings were not approved by the food and drug administration but he continued to heal people. His followers were now growing in number and the government was being questioned at ever turn. Their decision had to be either a lifetime of imprisonment or execution by lethal injection. If he were imprisoned, he would draw public sympathy and just grow in popularity. This of course would infuriate the Muslim population which was rapidly becoming the majority religion in the United States of America. Yes he must be executed.

Jesus was handcuffed and ankle chains were snapped in place. Two FBI agents drove him down to the FBI headquarters in DC where he was to go before Terrorism Czar John Brannon for schedule of execution in Leavenworth Federal Prison.

When Judas who had betrayed Jesus saw that Jesus was condemned to die he was overcome by deep regret of what he had done. He tried to return the 600 bucks to the FBI agents he had made a deal with. He told them "Oh man, I really blew it, I sold out Jesus and that’s the same as selling out God. I betrayed an innocent man's life." He grabbed at an agents gun trying to get them to shoot him but they only threw him to the ground and laughed at him saying " Why should we care man? That's your problem now get out of here dirt bag." So Judas threw the money in through the office door and booked. He ran down to a deserted warehouse off West Ichabod Street and found an open door. There were some old manila ropes hanging on a cargo rail so he threw a couple ropes over a rafter, climbed an old ladder and jumped snapping his neck.

The Bureau Chief told the agents that gathered up the cash from the floor that the money had already been logged as informant money and had to go. So upon finding out about Judas's suicide they bought a plot down in the indigent cemetery for his burial. A grave hole was dug and two rather intoxicated state employees just tossed the pine box down into the whole where it shattered open. They knew no one would see the mess they made of Judas or the grave so they just shoveled over the dirt and left.

At the Capital Supreme court chamber and Supreme Court justice was getting very agitated with this man who called himself God. First these people try to overturn Row verses Wade and now one of them thinks he is God. Justice Kanaday decided to address this Jesus one more time. President Hassan told him he wanted this man silenced as soon as possible and as quietly as possible.

“Are you still claiming to be the King of the American community?" With this Jesus replied “Yes I am what you say I am." When he was accused by the Federal Prosecutors Jesus said not a single word. Justice Kanady then asked him “Man, don’t you hear the testimony you've been charged with?” But Jesus said nothing, not even to a single charge to the great amazement of the Justice.

Just this week Justice Kanaday was told of over crowding and that he could release a single prisoner from the prison but it had to be one of the least offenders and preferably not a repeat offender. As he walked down the Capitol steps with Jesus chained and cuffed close behind he thought for a moment. Not five paces behind Jesus was a notorious prisoner named Ted Bundy. He had been given a death sentence for the multiple brutal murders of several female college students. So when the crowd had began to grow there on the Capitol steps, the Justice turned to them and shouted "Which one of these men do you want me to release to you today, Ted Bundy or Jesus the Christ?" While standing there on that step the Justices cell phone rang. It was his wife who had been watching on the news. She told him “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man. I had a terrible dream today about him and I still have a migraine from it."

In the street at the end of the steps a car door opened and the FBI Bureau Chief and his agents exited quickly. They told Justice Kanaday they knew what the decision of Congress was and he had better carry it out. They then turned to the crowd and shouted “You good people are loyal American citizens. Do you want a do gooder coming up here and telling you he is your leader without you even getting a vote? That is terrorism, threatening your very way of life. What do we do with Terrorist in this country people?" Which of these two do you want released to you? shouted the Justice. " TED BUNDY" they answered in anger. " WHAT SHOULD I THEN DO WITH JESUS WHO IS CALLED CHRIST?" the Governor asked loudly. "EXECUTE HIM “they responded with a little coaxing from the agents. " Why? What crime has he committed that could justify his execution over Bundy's?" the Governor asked. But they shouted all the louder "EXECUTE HIM ". When the Governor saw he was getting nowhere with the crowd he stopped a moment and began mumbling to himself. The crowd’s anger began to rage loudly when finally he through his hands up and said “I will have nothing to do with the murder of this man. His blood is on your conscience, not mine." The people responded “We know what to do with terrorist and traitors. EXECUTE HIM. " Then he released Bundy to them. He had Jesus beaten and tased and handed him back over to the agents to be taken to Leavenworth and executed.

A black van pulled up and took Jesus was thrown inside like a caged animal. They stripped him and put a scarlet sheet on him. They cut off a piece of barbed wire and fashioned a crown which they slammed down upon his head. Blood now running down his face, they put a broom in one hand and knelt down in front of him and mocked him. "HAIL, KING OF THE AMERICANS” they said. After they had mocked him, they spit on him and beat him with the broom .Then they took off the robe and put prison clothes on him and dragged him off to a holding cell where he would stay for a short time while they prepared the electric chair for his death, they decided lethal injection was too good for such a traitor as this and they wanted to see him suffer before he died. As they were dragging him down the hallway, they came up on a janitor named Simon and they forced him to carry Jesus the rest of the way to the holding cell.

Later that day they dragged him again down the long dark hallway into a large room. There were many chairs surrounding a small booth. In the booth was a large chair with a rather torturous looking wired helmet. Above the helmet on the wall was a sign “THE SKULL PALACE". While one officer was strapping Jesus in the other took out a bottle of spoiled grape juice, shoved it in Jesus face and said “Here, have a drink on the house your majesty." But Jesus, tasting a little on his lips refused to drink. Two guards could be heard in the background talking about his clothes he came in with. One of them said he could get a couple bucks for his Levi's. That would buy him a couple of lotto tickets. Another guard brought out a piece of card board and took out a magic marker and wrote "KING OF THE AMERICANS". He tied a piece of twine at the top and hung it around Jesus’ neck. There were two other inmates awaiting execution after him.

The room began to fill with spectators and witnesses seated in the large padded chairs around the booth. They began to taunt him and shout insults. How dare he think he could rule over this mighty nation of Americans. Who did he think he was? Son of God indeed, they shouted to him “Well Jesus, if you are the son of God, break those restraints and come out of there." In the same way the other inmates also flung insults at him. "Let him break free and come out of the booth and we will believe him." shouted the Speaker of the house from the side of the room.
The executioner then threw the switch for about one minute and then cut it off. He had intentionally lowered the voltage so that Jesus would not die right away. Again and again he would throw the switch and Jesus would twitch and squirm but never a word did he speak. Finally Jesus looked up with parched lips and cried "My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?” Immediately one of the officers said "he is calling God” and ran and got some vinegar and put it on a sponge and offered it to Jesus to drink. Czar Brannon watching from a monitor in the capital building and said “ok, that’s enough crank it up and let’s finish this.” But before the current could be increased Jesus called out again in and gave up his spirit.

At that moment the whole building began to shake. The circuit breakers behind the chairs glowed red hot and melted. The glass in the booth shattered and darkness fell on the entire country. The concrete walls in the prison split open like ripped paper. Congress and Senate members began to run from their buildings as the ceilings began to crumble. The Bureau Chief who only moments before had mocked Jesus, now fell on his knees and cried “My God what have we done, this really was the son of God!”


by Terry L. Richardson
TRichar384@aol.com
Copyright © January 24, 2010

In the Year 2000 and 10

Ok guys, I wrote this song this morning. For all you ancient wonders you will remember a song in our youth Called "In the Year 2525" performed by Zager and Evans. If you dont remember it, google it, listen to it and then put the music to this song. I think you might like it.. hopefully. Have a great day.

In the Year 2000 and 10

In the year 19 and 45
If democracy is still alive
If the constitution can survive
We may find….

In the years 19 and 62
Prayers was stripped from our children in the public schools
For 19 years our country did decay.
And God was warning of a coming judgment day.

In the year 19 and 81
Reagan was elected Prosperity had again begun
For eight years we were strong and we were blessed
In God we trust was our motto strongly stressed

In the year 19 and 93
Clinton took the white house morality was up a tree
For eight years our economy declined
Jobs were lost to a “Gone to Mexico” sign.

In the year 2000 and 1
Gods hand was for a moment lifted and darkened the sun.
Four planes became missiles and our safety was now through.
Death filled the skies and the anxieties grew.

In the year 2000 and 9
Its now apparent lady liberty has gone totally blind
Socialism is alive and communism too
Trillions in debt and what can we do?

It’s now 2000 and 10
We had better turn back to God and repent of our sin.
We’ve lost our Congress and our Senate too
We can rebuild them again but it's up to you.

Written by Terry L. Richardson
Copyright © January 1, 2010

A Christmas Story : MISTER JESUS

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

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

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.

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.

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