24 Days of Christmas Day 5

5 December

Word

 John 1:heading, 1–3  1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

 2 The same was in the beginning with God.

 3 All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.

 Carol: It Came Upon a Midnight Clear Hymn #207

Story: Christmas Loaves and Fishes

Christmas Loaves and Fishes

By Raynier Maharaj Toronto, Canada

On Christmas Eve in homes everywhere there is quiet excitement. The festive feeling and the warmth of having family members near brings to mind a Christmas tale I love to relate each year. It's a true story, even though it might sound unbelievable. And it's proof that miracles do happen.

A long time ago there was a group of young people who decided to spread some Christmas cheer. They had discovered that there were several children who would be spending the festive holiday in a community hospital nearby. So one of the friends dressed as Santa Claus, they bought nice presents, wrapped them, and armed with guitars and sweet voices, they dropped in unexpectedly at the hospital on Christmas Eve.

The children were overjoyed at seeing Santa, and by the time the group was finished handing out presents and singing Christmas carols, there were tears in everyone's eyes. From then on, it was decided they would play Santa every year.

The following Christmas Eve, oth­er patients at the hospital were included in the rounds, and by the third year the celebration was expanded to embrace some of the poor children in the neighborhood.

On the fourth Christmas Eve, how­ever, after all the rounds were made, Santa Claus looked into his bag and discovered there were a few extra toys left. So the friends mulled it over, trying to figure out what to do with them. Somebody mentioned that there were a few squatters' shacks nearby in which a couple of desperately poor families lived.

So the group decided to go there, thinking that there were perhaps three families at most. But as they drove over the crest of the hill into this lonely area—it was around midnight now—the shocked group saw a large number of people standing at the side of the street.

Much to their surprise, they were children— more than 30 of them. Behind them were not three shacks but rows and rows of shabby squatters' dwellings. As the cars drew to a stop, the children came running up, shouting with joy. It turned out they had been waiting patiently all night for Santa Claus. Some­body—no one could remember who—had told them he was coming, although our Santa had decided to go there only moments before.

Everyone was stunned, except for Santa. He was in a panic. He knew he didn't have enough toys for all these kids. Eventually, however, not wanting to disappoint the children, he decided to give whatever toys he had only to the youngest, smallest children. When the presents ran out, he'd just have to explain to the bigger kids what had happened.

So moments later he found himself perched on top of a car's hood as these 30 or more sparkling clean children, dressed in their best clothes, lined up in order of height, with the smallest first, for their moment with him. As each anxious child approached, Santa dipped into his bag, his heart heavy with dread, hoping to find at least one more toy. And by some miracle, he found one each time he dipped. And as the last of the children received a pres­ent, Santa looked into the now deflated bag. It was empty—empty as it should have been 24 children ago.

With a sigh of relief, he let out a hearty "ho-ho-ho" and bade the kids farewell. But as he was about to enter one of the cars (the reindeer, apparently, had the day off), he heard a child scream: "Santa! Santa! Wait!" And out of the bushes rushed two little children, a boy and a girl. They had been asleep.

Santa's heart sank. This time he knew for sure he had no more toys. The bag was empty. He had seen it himself. But as the out-of-breath kids approached, he summoned up some extra courage and dipped into the bag one more time. And—lo and behold— there were indeed two more presents in the bag.

That group of friends, now all grown adults, still talk about this miracle on Christmas morning. They still have no explanation for it, other than the fact that it happened. How do I know so much about this? Well, I was the one playing Santa.

Family Circle   12/16/97

24 Days of Christmas Day 4

4 December

Anointed One  

Bible Dictionary—Anointed One

Carol: Joy to the World Hymn #201

Story: A Boy Learns a Lesson

A Boy Learns a Lesson

In about my tenth year, as Christmas approached, I longed for and electric train. The times were those of the economic depression, yet my mother and dad purchased for me a lovely electric train.

Christmas morning bright and early I thrilled when I noticed my train. The next few hours were devoted to operating the transformer and watching the engine pull its cars forward - then backward around the track.

Mother said that she had purchased a windup train for the widow Hansen's boy, Mark, who lived down the lane at Gale street. As I looked at his train, I noted a tanker car which  I so much admired. I put up such a fuss that my mother succumbed to my pleadings and gave me the tanker car. I put it with the train set and felt pleased.

My mother and I took the remaining cars and the engine down to Mark Hansen. The young boy was a year or two older that I . He had never anticipated such a gift. He was thrilled beyond words. He wound the key in his engine, it not being electric or as expensive as mine, and was overjoyed as the engine and the three cars, plus caboose went around the track.

I felt a horrible sense of guilt as I returned home. The tanker car no longer appealed to me. Suddenly, I took the tanker car in my hand, plus an additional car of my own, and ran all the way down to Gale Street and proudly announced to Mark, "we forgot to bring two cars which belong to your train."

I don't know when a deed has made me feel any better than that experience as a ten-year-old boy.

 - Thomas S. Monson

24 Day of Christmas day 3

3 December 

Good Shepherd

 John 10:14–15, 17  14 I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine.

 15 As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father: and I lay down my life for the sheep.

 17 Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again.

Carol: O Little town of Bethlehem Hymn #208

Story: I was Grateful Just to be Alive

I was Grateful Just to be Alive

Royal R.Meservy

It was the Sunday before Christmas, and our family was discussing memorable Christmases. After some discussions among the children, my eleven-year-old son Greg asked, "Dad, which Christmas do you remember best? Will you tell us about it?"

That was a big order, but after a few minutes' hesitation, I proceeded to tell them this experience:

The Christmas that stands out most in my mind was that of 1944, during World War II. We had fought through the Battle of the Ardennes and were then sent to the Siegfried Line to replace the Second Division. We had been there a week when the German offensive known as the Belgian Bulge began. We were right on the nose of that thrust and were commanded to hold at all costs. For two and a half days we fought and held. But finally, on December 19, 1944, we were forced to surrender.

After we were searched, we stood out in a barnyard all night. The next morning we began a march of thirty-eight miles. There was no food, except part of a raw sugar beet that I dashed into a field to get as we marched along.

The following morning, after sleeping on the cold, damp ground, we moved slowly forward. We arrived at a big building about noon and were given two packages of German emergency ration crackers and a ride to the Geroldstein, Germany, railway station, where we slept on the hard cement. On December 21, we were loaded aboard a train of boxcars, with sixty-five men to each car. The sliding doors on either side of the car were wired shut from the outside. There was no food or water.

December 23, 1944, found us outside of Diez, still cramped up in the boxcar, hungry and thirsty. It was on this memorable afternoon that I learned the true meaning of Christmas.

Just before dark American bombers flew overhead, and bombs fell so close that one boxcar door was ripped entirely off. As the bombing continued, someone asked, "Has anybody got a Bible?" I reached into my pocket and handed him my pocket edi­tion of the New Testament. He turned to the second chapter of Saint Luke and read:

"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.

"And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

"And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

"And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger.

"And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." (Luke 2:8-14.)

I had heard that scripture read year after year, but never be­fore or since with the emotion and feeling with which it was read in that boxcar.

Peace came over us. He handed the Bible back to me, and we all sat quietly, each deep in his own thoughts.

The next day, after eighty-eight hours without water, we were given water and later some food. Christmas of 1944 is the one I remember best because I was grateful just to be alive.

Improvement Era. December 1970, p. 6. Dr. Royal R. Meservy, a native of Wilford Fremont County, Idaho, has served two full-time missions for the Church. He and his wife have seven children; the family resides in Fullerton, California, where he is a counselor at Fullerton College.

24 Day of Christmas Day 2

2 December 

Creator

 2 Ne. 9:5  5 Yea, I know that ye know that in the body he shall show himself unto those at Jerusalem, from whence we came; for it is expedient that it should be among them; for it behooveth the great Creator that he suffereth himself to become subject unto man in the flesh, and die for all men, that all men might become subject unto him.

Christmas Funnies

What goes “oh, oh, oh”?
Santa walking backwards!

Knock knock!
Who’s there?
Snow.
Snow who?
Snow use – I’ve forgotten my name again!

Why does Santa have three gardens?
So he can ho ho ho!

When does Christmas come before Thanksgiving?
In the dictionary!

What’s the difference between the Christmas alphabet and the ordinary alphabet?
The Christmas one has no L (noel)!

What do you have in December that’s not in any other month?
The letter D!

Why is it always cold at Christmas?
Because it’s in Decemberrrr!

What Christmas carol is a favorite of parents?
Silent Night!

Why do mummys like the holidays?
 Because of all the wrapping!

 Why don’t aliens celebrate Christmas?
 Because they don’t want to give away their presence.

When does New Year’s Day come before Christmas Day?

 Every year!

Who hides in the bakery at Christmas?
A mince spy!

How many presents can Santa fit in an empty sack?
Only one, after that it’s not empty anymore!

What do you get if you eat Christmas decorations?
Tinselitus!

How does Good King Wenceslas like his pizzas?
Deep and crisp and even!

What do monkeys sing at Christmas?
Jungle bells, jungle bells!

Who delivers presents to baby sharks at Christmas?
Santa Jaws!

What do you get if Santa goes down the chimney when the fire is lit?
Crisp Cringle!

How do sheep greet each other at Christmas?
A merry Christmas to ewe!

What do you get if you cross an apple with a Christmas tree?
A pineapple!

What kind of candle burns longer, a red candle or a green candle?
Neither, candles always burn shorter!

24 Days of Christmas Day 1

1 December 

Mediator

 1 Tim. 2:5  5 For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus;

Story: The Auction

THE AUCTION

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art. When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son. About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you and your love for art. The young man held out his package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this." The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. "Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected. The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son. "Who will bid for this picture?" There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted, "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one."

But the auctioneer persisted. "Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200" Another voice shouted angrily, "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids." But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?" Finally a voice came from the back of the room. It was the long-time gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give you $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. "We have $10, who will bid $20?" "Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters." "$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?" The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collection. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $IO!" A man sitting in the second row shouted, "Now let's get on with the collection!" The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over." What about the paintings?" "I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was
told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only
the painting of the son would be auctioned. The man who took the son gets everything."

God gave his son 2000 years ago to die on a cruel cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, "The Son, the Son, who'll take the Son?" Because you see, whoever takes the Son, gets everything. 

Friemel

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