[Ohio-Communities-of-Faith] FW: Paw, me and the rifle

Fri Dec 10 13:30:59 UTC 2021

From: Larry Perry [mailto:larryperry at performancepress.ccsend.com] On Behalf Of Larry Perry
Sent: Friday, December 10, 2021 8:11 AM
To: mmoore11 at kent.edu
Subject: EXT: Paw, me and the rifle

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Letter from Larry

Friday

December 10, 2021

Good Friday Morning Everyone: 

Christmas is just 14 days away. The day we celebrate the birth 

of our savior, Jesus Christ. Sometimes we get caught up in the

commercialism of Christmas and forget the real meaning. Today's

story is one that I have shared before but is so moving that I wanted

to share with you again today.

PA, ME and the RIFLE

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 sideboards 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, 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 Jensen's, 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.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU AND YOURS.

NOTE: To our Jewish friends around the world, 

Hanukkah began last week and we want to wish 

each of you a Happy Hanukkah to you and yours 

this year! Shalom.

With all my heart, I love you,

GOD

****

May God richly BLESS YOU and YOURS.

Larry

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