The Miracles in Christmas.

It was December 10, 1994, and I was suffering from the demands of too many responsibilities with so little time to accomplish my tasks.   It was Saturday evening and I knew it would take the rest of the night to prepare my Sunday school lesson, but I was exhausted from the busy day.   My lesson was on faith, hope, and charity and I had planned to share a Christmas story that was meaningful in my life.  

The story was about a young shepherd boy who had an encounter with the Savior, while he tended sheep along the hillside.  The young boy didn't know that the tall man he had welcomed into his camp was the Messiah.  He was eager to share the food his mother had prepared and reached into his bag bringing forth nuts, dried fruits, and a few wild berries -  but he carefully withheld the sweet bread she had made for his birthday gift.  It was a rare occasion to have such a treat.  

They sat together upon the hillside sharing the meager portions, but the shepherd boy felt sorrowful and ashamed that he was unwilling to share the gift that was tucked away inside his bag.   He humbly confessed that he had withheld the "best portion for himself" and as he brought forth the savory gift, he placed the small bundle before the Savior.  This time the shepherd boy gave all that he had and with a willing heart.  It was more than enough and it seemed fit for a king.

As the night progressed, it was time for the kind stranger to leave, but the shepherd boy begged his new friend to stay longer.  The Savior reached out,  placed His hand upon the boy's crooked and curved shoulders and healed the physical afflictions that the boy had since birth.  The Master disappeared into the night and tears of joy flowed from the shepherd boy's eyes, as he began to understand the miracles of this magnificent visit.

I knew the lesson would take a tremendous amount of preparation, but I had no idea what my efforts would call forward.  My intentions were to compile a small book containing the story of 'The Little Shepherd Boy' for each person in the class and place it in a brown paper bag with a small bundle of sweet cake for the lesson on faith, hope, and charity.  It was simple, but poignant in celebration of Christmas.

I worked late into the evening and I felt somewhat overwhelmed and alone.  I drove to the store to buy the sweet bread and noticed it was already half past nine.  I didn't know how I was going to finish the project  before midnight.  Tired and discouraged, the tears began to welt up in my eyes and in faith I offered a prayer for a little miracle to prevail on my behalf.  I had 36 books to compile (20 pages each) and I still had a lesson to prepare.  I collected my thoughts and entered the store.

When I was leaving through the front doors of the market, I caught a glimpse of a man standing a short distance from the entrance.  He was a tall thin man who's clothing seemed unusual and his appearance gave me the impression he was not from this country.  He was wearing a long shawl draped over his head that lay loosely upon his shoulders, hardly enough to keep him warm, and a robe of sorts that came down around his feet.  I could see that he was cold from this winter's night.

An elderly man was talking to this man and although, I couldn't hear what was being discussed, I felt drawn toward them.  When I approached the two men, I could hear broken English being spoken in a soft and reverent tone by the elderly man and then he addressed me.  "This man is hungry and he needs money to buy some food."  Before I could respond, he began searching through all of his pockets for whatever change he could find and placed everything into the strangers hand.  "I am sorry, this is all that I have." He humbly said. 

I began fumbling through my purse and found a few dollars and laid them in the man's hand beside the coins.  There was a genuine spirit of warmth that surrounded the bitter cold night.  Suddenly, the story of the young shepherd boy flashed through my mind,  "was I withholding the best portion for myself"?  Without hesitation, I reached back into my purse and gave all the money that I had.  Tears flooded my eyes and I quickly turned away to hide my overflow of emotions.  

I was walking toward my car when I heard someone calling.  "Lady...!"   I turned around to see the elderly man standing behind me, but I couldn't quite hear what he was saying.  "Excuse me," I replied and moved closer in his direction.  "Thank you for being so generous to the stranger."  He said with tears dripped from his eyes.  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and I whispered, "Thank you for being so kind to me!"    

In the parking lot of a grocery store, just off main street, the world seemed a little kinder, a little warmer, and a little more like Heaven than earth.  Three strangers witnessed the powerful miracles of faith, hope, and charity as peace prevailed on a cold and dreary night.

There is something magical about giving.  The world would have us believe that if something is given away, it's no longer apart of your life, but that's not true.  Heaven teaches that when something is given away it belongs to the lives of the giver and the receiver and all those who witness the spirit of the gift.  I've had a lot of money pass through my hands in my lifetime and have little or no recollection where much of it was spent, but I will never forget the gift that it afforded me that magnificent night on December 10, 1994.  by, Linda Sumner Urza, One fine day.

Seeing Beyond The Walls.

It's important to have gratitude in all things.  Even through the trials in life there is a divine purpose for developing gratitude, but it requires faith.  Faith is the virtue that allows us to building the spiritual muscles to stand before God and gratitude is the home where all virtues safely reside.

Many years ago I was driving to work when Paul Harvey came on the radio station.  Mr. Harvey's commentaries have graced the airwaves for decades; bringing the finest journalism into the hearts of millions.  On this particular morning he was narrating a story about positive thoughts and actions versus the negative in the lives of two men.   

The men were both recovering from surgeries and sharing the same room in the hospital.  One man had a bed by the window and the other was on the opposite side of the room.  As days passed by, the man next to the window could feel the despair and unhappiness of his roommate.  He felt compelled to brighten this man's life, so he pulled opened the curtain by his bedside and began to share the lovely view of the world below.   He described the beautiful park filled with children playing on the swings, the lovers arm in arm and beautiful swans gliding gracefully over the glassy pond.  Each day he described these wonderful things happening in the park with vivid details. 

The man on the opposite side of the room was intrigued and waited every morning with great anticipation to hear more about the outside world.  Soon his despair and unhappiness was replaced with the enthusiasm to live.  Although, he was unable to leave his bed or to see what was beyond the window pain, he imagined the beauty as it was being described by his new friend.  He imagined himself walking in the park, feeding the pigeons and sitting in the sun along the edge of the pond. 

One day he allowed selfishness to enter into his heart.  'Why does he have the bed by the window, I deserve my turn!'  He grumbled bitterly to himself.  Each day this bitterness grew until it consumed him and he could think of nothing else, but the guile of envy.  One night the man by the window seemed to be restless and he was having difficulties sleeping.  Hearing his friend's discomfort, the man on the other side of the room turned over with his face to the wall and mumbled, 'it serves him right' and he rolled over and fell asleep.

In the morning he awoke, he noticed that the bed by the window was empty and inquired about his friend.  He sat in sorrow as the nurse informed him that his roommate had died in the middle of the night.  After moments of sadness, he asked if he could have the bed by the window.  The nurse promptly moved him across the room and a few inches from the curtain, then she left the room.  He quickly reached over to the tassel hanging from the curtain and pulled it open with one swift motion.  There - just beyond the glass window was a solid brick wall.

Gratitude is the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation and willingness to return kindness.  It comes quietly when we listen with our hearts and desire to see with deserving eyes.  It has the power to change evil into good and a chaotic world into a heavenly place.   Anger and disdain surrender in the presence of gratitude and the world surrounding becomes an oases of peace.  by, Linda Sumner Urza, One fine day.

The Christmas Orange.

When my children were young, one of our Christmas traditions was to visit family and friends during the holiday season.  We picked a night in December, prepared a basket of treats, and headed out into the snow covered streets to celebrate the spirit of Christmas.  

We always brought along a messages to share and one of our favorite short stories was “The Christmas Orange”.  This tender story reveals the innocent hearts of little children and their desire to create the true meaning of Christmas.  

The origin of this story is unknown and although, there are several interpretations, after 50 years, the message still rings true.  This is my version of this classic story. 

                                                

The Christmas Orange.

Jake lived in an orphanage with nine other boys his entire life.  During the wintertime any extra money went for coal to heat the old buildings.  Times were tough, but throughout the holiday season the buildings always seemed a little warmer and the food more plentiful.   

With Christmas approaching, excitement filled the orphanage.  The boys were anticipating a special gift and a treasure that was greatly desired.

On Christmas morning each child received an orange.  It was the only time of the year such a rare treat was provided and it was coveted like no other thing that they possession.  Each boy would save his orange for several days and admire the special gift.  It would be savored until the moment it would be eaten.  

Some would keep their orange until New Year's Day or later, much like many of us admire our Christmas tree and decorations until after the New Year to remind us of the joy of Christmas.

This particular Christmas Day, Jake had broken an orphanage rule by pushing one of the other boys.  The orphanage mother immediately took away Jake's orange and he was sent to his room as punishment for his actions. 

Jake spent Christmas Day empty and alone.  Nighttime came and he could not sleep.  Silently he sobbed thinking that this year he would not have an orange to cherish with the other boys.  

A soft hand placed on Jake’s shoulder had startled him and an object was quickly shoved into his hands.  Then the child disappeared into the dark and leaving Jake alone to discover a strange looking orange resting in the palms of his hands.  It was an orange made from the segments of nine other oranges and ever so carefully placed back into the orange peel.  There were nine highly prized oranges that had to be eaten that Christmas night, instead of admired and cherished until a later date.

Jake held in his little hands the true meaning of Christmas, the ultimate gift - a touch of human kindness.  It wasn’t delivered in a fancy package or tied with a bow, for it came in the quiet hours of the night and expecting nothing in return.  This simple little gift was given with the genuine love and intent to mend the heart of a wounded child, with a silent whisper that others care.  Revised by Linda Sumner Urza, One fine day.