John 3:16 16 ¶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.
Carol: Stars were Gleaming Children’s
Songbook #37
Story: A Beautiful Silver Star
IVAN T.
ANDERSON
When the
Allied forces made their big push into Germany it was the duty of my military
police battalion to take prisoners from the front lines into crudely
constructed stockades.
I shall
never forget December 24, 1944, and the German prisoner of war who helped to
make it memorable for me.
It was a
bitter cold night and I found myself on duty helping to guard more than twelve
hundred German prisoners.
To say we
were a homesick group of men would be an understatement. The fact that it was
Christmas Eve only added to our depression.
One of our
company, a man from the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, stopped blowing on his
hands long enough to say:
"What a
cold, miserable Christmas! Just because we are stuck out here doesn't mean we
can't do something about it. I'm going out and find a tree."
"Forget
it!" another M.P. shouted. "There are no trees around here; besides,
we haven't anything to decorate with anyway."
Not to be
discouraged, Smoky went into the darkness and later returned with a bedraggled
specimen.
"You
call that thing a tree?" our heckler continued. "In Texas we'd plow
that under for a bush."
With a
positive attitude, Smoky began to decorate his tree with ornaments made from
gum wrappers, candy wrappers, etc.
Several of
the men not stationed directly at the stockade began to help our zealous friend
with his seemingly impossible task,
As we worked
I suddenly heard a voice calling from the stockade: "American,
American."
Turning
toward the compound I saw a German prisoner with one hand extended through the
barbed wire. With his other hand he was motioning toward me.
I quickly
threw a shell into the chamber of my rifle and approached him with caution.
What I saw in his hand astounded me.
This prisoner
had made a beautiful silver star, entirely from gum foil, that was a work of
art. He placed the star in my hand and motioned to the top of our tree.
Hoping he
spoke some English, I said: "This star has such detail, are you a
professional artist?"
By his
puzzled expression it was obvious he spoke no more English than I spoke German,
so I took his contribution over and placed it atop our tree.
"Well,
I'll be!" heckler began again. "I hate to admit this, but that bush
is beginning to look like a real tree. Guess I should have kept my mouth shut,
eh, Smoky?" (A loud cheer of agreement resounded from all the men.)
As we
completed our tree we began singing Christmas carols, and I noticed several of
the prisoners joined in on "Silent Night."
The last
strains were fading into the night when I heard the same voice call:
"American."
This time
the prisoner had both hands extended through the barbed wire.
Again I
approached with caution, rifle ready, and again I was amazed at what he held in
his hands.
This German
sculptor had made intricate figures of Joseph, Mary, and the Christ Child. He
pointed under our tree as he handed me his detailed work.
I nodded my
thanks and carefully placed the delicate figures where he had indicated.
As I placed
the tiny figure of the Christ Child, made from a stick base and professionally
covered with foil, the light from our fire actually seemed to give it a
heavenly glow. I thought of how far we had strayed from the teachings of Jesus
and felt tears sting my eyes.
Looking at
the stockade, I saw the prisoner was still be the barbed wire, so I hurried
back, smiled, and warmly shook his hand.
He returned
my smile and the firelight caught the tears that were in his eyes.
Since the
close of World War II I have thought of this German prisoner of war numerous
times.
Our meeting
was brief; we were two ships that passed in the night, and yet I feel this man
would agree that our only hope for a lasting world peace would be a return to
the teachings of the tiny figure he so beautifully molded that cold December
night. One thing is certain: if we love the Lord we also have a genuine concern
for all mankind—the two are synonymous.
Deseret
News, December 24, 1970, p.1
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