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Very good story. thanks, I'm close to tears.
Cairie
>>> Cecily Ballenger <[log in to unmask]> 2007-12-12 21:38 >>>
The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been
anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to
him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate.
He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last
hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless
man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was
known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm
up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see
you're busy, I'll just go." "Not without something hot in your belly."
George said.
He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It
ain't much, but it's hot and tasty, "Stew ... made it myself. When you're
done, there's coffee and it's fresh."
Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be
right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam
was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help
me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and
my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked
cracked from the cold, the car was dead. "You ain't going in this thing,"
George
said as he turned away. "But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office
closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got
the keys to his old truck, and wn back outside. He walked around the
building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where
the couple
was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you
ever looked at, but she runs real good." George helped put the woman in the
truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back
inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too.
That
'ol truck has brand new ." George thought he was talking to the stranger,
but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee
cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George
thought.
George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked
slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had
been.
He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant
no customers. He discovered the the block hadn't cracked, it was just the
bottom
hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So
he put a new one on. "Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter
either."
He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new
and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway.
As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a
police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left
shoulder,
the officer moaned, "Please help me." George helped the officer inside as he
remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the
wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The
uniform company had ben here that morning and had left clean shop towels. He
used
those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix
anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. "Something
for pain,"
George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought
to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You
hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance." The phone was dead.
"Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your
car." He
went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying
the two way radio. He went back in to find the policeman sitting up.
"Thanks,"
said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is
still in the area." George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an
injured
man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage
to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right
through
'y. God thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your
gonna be right as rain."
George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked.
"None for me," said the officer. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the
city.
Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same
time.
The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun.
"Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was
shaking
and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.
"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer. "Son, why are you
doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else
might
get hurt." The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you,
too. Now give me the cash!" The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that
thing
away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now." He turned
his attention to the young mn. "Sn, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money,
well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pee shooter
away." George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man,
reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released
his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good
at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he
went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week
..."
George handed the gun to the cop. Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now
and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we
can."
He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from
the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup
of
coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in
here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort
this
thing out."
The youn man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot
you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer." "Shut up and drink your coffee."
the
cop said.
George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an
ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn.
"Chuck! You
ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer. "Not bad for a guy who took
a bullet. How did you find me?" "GPS locator in the car. Best thing since
sliced
bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.
Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just
dropped his gun and ran." George and the young man both looked puzzled at
each other.
"That guy work here?," the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just
hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."
The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man
leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"
Chuck just aid, "Mrry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for
everything."
"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve
some of your problems."
George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring
box. "Here you go, something for the little woman I don't think Martha would
mind. She said it would come in handy some day." The young man looked inside
to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the
young man "It means something to you." "And now it means something to you,"
replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need." George reached into
the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys
that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that
little
man of yours."
The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man
had handed him earlier. "And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner
with? Yu keep tat too," George said, "Now git home to your family." The
young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the
morning
for work, if that job offer is still good." "Nope. I'm closed Christmas
day," George said. "See ya the day after."
George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you
come from? I thought you left?" "I have been here. I have always been here,"
said
the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?" "Well, after my
wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a
tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used
to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a
little
chubby." The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do
celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when
I was
cold and hungry.
The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor.
Thepoliceman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by
terrorists.
The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any
for himself. "That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as
any man."
George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know
all this?" asked the old man. "Trust me, George. I have the inside track on
this
sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again."
The stranger moved toward the door "If you will excuse me, George, I have to
go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."
George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the
stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill
the room.
"You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."
George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord."
~ author unknown
Dean Masters, owner of the Masters List
The Lord is my light and my salvation.
If he is yours, join us on the Masters List
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