Luke 2:14 - Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
Luke 2:14: Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good
will toward men.
Special Christmas Story - Devotional
CHRISTMAS AT THE GAS STATION
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 went 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 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 been
there 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 'ya. Good 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 man. "Son, 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
young 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
said, "Merry 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? You keep that 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. The policeman 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." [source
unknown]
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