[Nfb-krafters-korner] Christmas 1881
Ramona Walhof
rwnfbi at qwest.net
Fri Dec 25 01:56:26 UTC 2009
Joyce, thank you for this story. I usually do not like things that are
forwarded to groups, but I'm glad I read this one.
Merry Christmas!
Ramona
----- Original Message -----
From: <Blindhands at aol.com>
To: <nfb-krafters-korner at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Thursday, December 24, 2009 10:51 AM
Subject: [Nfb-krafters-korner] Christmas 1881
> Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who
> squandered their means and then never had enough for the
> necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his
> heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I
> learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.
> It was Christmas Eve, 1881. I was fifteen years old and
> feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just
> hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for
> Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason.
> I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read
> in the Bible.
> After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in
> front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old
> Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest,
> I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't
> get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I
> couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the
> chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy
> wallowing in self-pity.
> Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there
> was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up
> good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not
> only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was
> dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I
> could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't
> think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a
> night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one
> dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I
> got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and
> mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to
> leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.
> Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the
> house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled.
> Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short,
> quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled
> unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on
> the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him.
> The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy.
> When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped
> in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think
> we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me."
> The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to
> do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were
> going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.
> After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the
> woodshed and came out with an armload of wood - the wood I'd
> spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all
> fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing?
> Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"
> "You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow
> Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had
> died a year or so before and left her with three children, the
> oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what?
> Yeah," I said, "Why?"
> "I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging
> around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out
> of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and
> went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I
> followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder
> if the horses would be able to pull it.
> Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the
> smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He
> handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait.
> When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right
> shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.
> "What's in the little sack?" I asked. Shoes, they're out of
> shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his
> feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the
> children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas
> without a little candy."
> We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence.
> I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have
> much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big
> woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form
> of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we
> could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare
> that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying
> them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this?
> Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have
> been our concern.
> We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded
> the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour
> and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and
> a timid voice said, "Who is it?" "Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my
> son, Matt... could we come in for a bit?"
> Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket
> wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in
> another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very
> small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen
> fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.
> "We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the
> sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her
> the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and
> took the shoes out, one pair at a time. There was a pair for
> her and one for each of the children - sturdy shoes, the best...
> shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her
> lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her
> eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa
> like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.
> "We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to
> me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's
> get that fire up to size and heat this place up."
> I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the
> wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to
> admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept
> seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their
> mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so
> much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart
> swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled
> my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never
> when it had made so much difference. I could see we were
> literally saving the lives of these people.
> I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The
> kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy
> and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't
> crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us.
> "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The
> children and I have been praying that he would send one of his
> angels to spare us."
> In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the
> tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in
> those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it, I
> could see that it was probably true. *I was sure that a better
> man than Pa had never walked the earth*. I started remembering
> all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many
> others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.
> Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I
> was amazed when they all fit, and I wondered how he had known
> what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand
> for the Lord, that the Lord would make sure he got the right
> sizes.
> Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood
> up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave
> them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I
> could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still
> had mine.
> At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs.
> wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas
> dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us
> can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey
> for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll
> be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here,
> hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest... my
> two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.
> Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I
> don't have to say, may the Lord bless you, I know for certain
> that He will."
> Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and
> I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa
> turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something.
> Your Ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and
> there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't
> have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little
> money from years back came by to make things square. Your Ma
> and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you
> that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just
> that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the
> woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew
> what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little
> candy for those children. I hope you understand."
> I understood alright... and my eyes became wet with tears
> again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done
> it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa
> had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow
> Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.
> For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or
> split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought
> back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa
> had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me
> the best Christmas of my life.
> Don't be too busy today... share this inspiring message. Merry Christmas
> and God bless you!
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
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