It was nearly Christmas. The Christmas tree lot was filled with shoppers. And just down the street from it lived a family in a small bungalow. The family included a young boy named Timmy, his baby brother, Mark, and their father and mother, Jim and Mary Andrews.
Since birth, Timmy’s legs never developed correctly and had grown more crooked with time. He was unable to run and play like the other boys in the neighborhood. But he was a very happy little boy, and he was especially excited now that it was snowing.
Timmy loved to watch the delicate snowflakes swirling and twirling as they floated past the windows. And now that evening had come, they seemed even more beautiful to him. They glistened in the glowing light that came from the street light at the corner of the cottage’s small yard.
Every few minutes since it had started snowing, Timmy shuffled his little feet across the floor, then clumsily climbed onto the big stuffed chair that sat in front of the window. Carefully, he then wiped a spot on the window, pressed his nose against the chilly surface, and looked out across the glistening yard.
He was so excited to see the beautiful snowflakes falling – but he still could hardly believe it. It had only been the night before when he had prayed and asked God to please send them snow – and a Christmas tree.
Timmy had prayed that prayer even before his usual bedtime prayer because of what he had heard his mommy say to his daddy. He had heard Mommy say, “I hope we at least have snow since we can’t afford a Christmas tree. I know how much Timmy would enjoy building a snowman. And, maybe, it will help him forget about not having a tree.”
Now as Timmy watched the snow gently falling, he thought about all the day’s happenings. That morning he had slipped out of bed earlier than usual. He had been too excited to sleep because Mommy had promised to let him help her. She had been saving scraps of colored paper and some special white paper just for their project. And Timmy had helped as they made their beautiful Christmas decorations.
The cutting and pasting had made Timmy’s little fingers very tired and sore, but it had been worth it. The chain he helped make, and the beautiful white angel that Mommy had made were the most special and beautiful things that Timmy had ever seen. And with Mommy’s help, he had stretched the chain out on his bed. It had reached all the way down the bed, and onto the floor.
Now, the beautiful, sparkling snowflakes only added to all his excitement – and his anticipation of Christmas.
“Come on, Son, ” Mr. Andrews said. “It’s getting late and you need to say your prayers and get into bed. Tomorrow is Christmas. We’ll get up bright and early and have breakfast. Then we’ll go out after breakfast and build a snowman together.”
The snow had stopped falling now. Timmy wanted very much to stay and continue to watch it sparkle in the street light. But he obeyed his daddy and climbed down from the big chair. Then slowly he followed him into the tiny bedroom which he shared with his baby brother, Mark.
There, kneeling down beside his bed, Timmy very quietly and reverently began to pray. “Dear God, this is Timmy. Thank you for Mommy and Daddy and for baby Mark. I wish you were here so you could see the beautiful paper chain Mommy helped me make. We used all the paper that Mommy had. It’s so long – it reaches all down my bed and on to the floor. I know it’s going to look so pretty on the Christmas tree that you are going to send. Thank you for making this my best Christmas ever. Good night, God, Amen.”
Just as quickly as Timmy finished praying, Mr. Andrews flipped off the lamp that was on the night table. He didn’t want Timmy to see the tears that suddenly squeezed from his eyes and rolled down onto his cheeks. Feeling very sad, he wondered how he was going to be able to explain to his son the next morning why they did not have a Christmas tree.
As he tucked his son in bed, he mumbled, “good night, son.” Then quietly left the room. Without saying anything to his wife, he quickly reached for his coat which hung on a hook next to the front door. He put it on and opened the door before finally speaking.
“Mary, it’s quit snowing now,” he said softly. “I think I’ll go for a walk. I have some thinking to do. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As Mrs. Andrews looked up from her knitting, her eyes caught her husband’s sad expression. She could sense his concern and wanted to help. “Jim, it’ll be all right. Don’t you worry.” she said softly.
He nodded, then went on out and trudged off down the street toward the corner. No one else was around for which he was thankful. He wanted to be alone in silence to think. The crunch, crunch sound of the snow under his feet were the only sounds he heard.
His wearied thoughts weighted him down and his shoulders slumped as though he were a much older man. Finally, his thoughts could no longer be kept inside and he said somewhat grudgingly. “Well, at least Mary got her wish for snow.”
Then, mumbling softly, he added, “if only I could have been able to work more to make extra money. I could have bought the boys a little toy for Christmas. Then, there’s Mary.” As he spoke, he sighed deeply.
Mr Andrews had allowed his worries to override his knowledge of the real meaning of Christmas.
Suddenly, his voice grew angry and louder. “I haven’t even been able to buy my dear Mary a gift.” Then nearly shouting, he added, “And if that’s not enough of a problem – now to hear Timmy thanking God for a Christmas tree that he won’t even get! What am I going to do?”
He signed heavily again before adding softly, “well, it’s too late to worry about it now. I’ll just have to explain it to Timmy. His mother and I did not have enough money to buy a Christmas tree. He will just have to understand.”
Are you, like Mr. Andrews – at your wits end. Have you lost all hope of having an answer to your problems? Do you think God cares? Find out what happens to Mr. Andrews by reading the entire E-Book, entitled, “The Little Crooked Pine – a Christmas Story of Hope and Love.”
Copyright 2008 menofagape.com
Ivy Elizabeth Harwell, is a freelance writer and has written for varied markets over the past 20+ years. She also is the author of the delighful Christian fiction, “The Servant.” We are pleased to make available some of her works at http://www.menofagape.com/ Visit our website at http://www.menofagape.com/
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