Our St. Louis Inspirational Christian Connection presents
these Inspirational Christmas stories for your enjoyment.
Inspirational And Uplifting
Christmas Stories
Page 1
THE CHRISTMAS LETTER
Author Unknown
Ruth went to her mail box on Christmas Eve, and there was only one letter. She picked it up and looked at it before opening, but then she looked at the envelope again. There was no stamp, no postmark, only her name and address. She read the letter:
Dear Ruth:
I'm going to be in your neighborhood this Christmas and I'd like to stop by for a visit.
Love Always,
Jesus
Ruth's hands were shaking as she placed the letter on the table. "Why would the Lord want to visit me? I'm nobody special. I don't have anything to offer." With that thought, Ruth remembered her empty kitchen cabinets.
"Oh my goodness, I really don't have anything to offer. It's already Christmas Eve and the stores will be closing. I'll have to run down out and buy something for dinner right away." She reached for her purse and counted out its contents. Five dollars and forty cents.
"Well, I can get some bread and cold cuts, at least." She threw on her coat and hurried out the door. A loaf of French bread, a half-pound of sliced turkey, and a carton of milk...leaving Ruth with grand total of twelve cents to last her until next week. Nonetheless, she felt good as she headed home, her meager offerings of a Christmas dinner tucked under her arm.
"Hey lady, can you help us, lady?" Ruth had been so absorbed in her dinner plans, she hadn't even noticed two figures huddled in the alleyway. A man and a woman, both of them dressed in little more than rags.
"Look lady, I ain't got a job, ya know, and my wife and I have been living here on the street, and, well, now it's getting cold and we're getting kinda hungry and, well, it's Christmas Eve, if you could help us, lady, we'd really appreciate it."
Ruth looked at them both. They were dirty, they smelled bad and, frankly, she was certain that they could get some kind of work if they really wanted to.
"Sir, I'd like to help you, but I'm a poor woman myself. All I have is a few cold cuts and some bread, and I'm having an important guest for Christmas and I was planning on serving that to Him."
"Yeah, well, okay lady, I understand. Thanks anyway". The man put his arm around the woman's shoulders, turned and headed back into the alley as a gentle snow began to fall. As she watched them leave, Ruth felt a familiar twinge in her heart.
"Sir, wait!" The couple stopped and turned as she ran down the alley after them. Look, why don't you take this food. I'll figure out something else to serve my guest." She handed the man her grocery bag.
"Thank you lady. Thank you very much!" "Yes, thank you!"
Ruth could see now that the woman was shivering.
"You know, I've got another coat at home. Here, why don't you take this one." Ruth unbuttoned her jacket and slipped it over the woman's shoulders. Then smiling, she turned and walked back to the street .... without her coat and with nothing to serve her guest.
"Thank you lady! Thank you very much! .... and Merry Christmas!"
Ruth was chilled by the time she reached her front door, and worried too. The Lord was coming to visit and she didn't have anything to offer Him. She fumbled through her purse for the door key. But as she did, she noticed another envelope in her mailbox.
"That's odd. The mailman doesn't usually deliver on Christmas Eve."
She took the envelope out of the box and opened it.
Dear Ruth:
It was so good to see you again. Thank you for the lovely Christmas dinner. And thank you, too, for the beautiful coat.
Love Always,
Jesus
The air was still cold, and the snow was falling even harder, but even without her coat, Ruth no longer noticed.
THE TABLECLOTH
Author Unknown
A brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to
reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October, excited about
their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc.and on Dec. 18, were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
On Dec. 19, a terrible rainstorm his the area and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 6'x 8' fall off
the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head
high. The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor and not knowing what else
to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home.
On the way, he noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for charity; so he stopped in.
One of the items was a beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted
tablecloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front
wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time, it had started to snow. An older woman running from the
opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor
invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.
She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hanger, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry.
The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was
like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "where did you get that tablecloth? The
pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see
if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the
initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in
Austria. The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just
gotten the tablecloth.
The woman explained that before the war, she and her husband were
well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week.
She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home
again.
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor
keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home, that was
the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was
only in Brooklyn for the day for a house cleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve.
The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great.
At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at
the door and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood,
continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he
wasn't leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front
wall because it was identical to the one that his wife had made years ago
when they lived in Austria before the war, and how could there be two
tablecloths so alike? He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her; but he
was arrested and put in prison. He never saw his wife or his home again or
all the 35 years in between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride.
They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had
taken the woman three days earlier.
He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's
apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he
could ever imagine.
(More Christmas Stories follow these reflective questions.)
Why do we celebrate the birth of Jesus on Christmas?
Who is Jesus?
Why did He come here in the first place?
What does the birth of Jesus have to do with me?
Click here for some answers.
A CLASSIC CHRISTMAS STORY
Author Unknown
Just last Christmas Eve I had a strange visitor. This is how it
happened:
I had just finished the household chores for the night and was
preparing to go to bed when I heard a noise in the front of the house. I opened
the door of the front room, and to my surprise, I saw Santa Claus himself
stepping out from behind the Christmas tree. He placed his fingers over his lips so I wouldn't cry out.
"What are you doing here..." I started to ask, but the words choked
up in my throat as I saw that he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly
manner was gone. Gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know. As I stood
there in my robe bewildered, Santa said, "We've done it all wrong. You
need to teach the children." My perplexed expression still showed in
the near darkness.
Fumbling in his sack, he drew forth a bright shining gold star.
"Teach them the old meaning of Christmas ~ the meanings that Christmas
nowadays has forgotten. Teach the children that the star was a
heavenly sign of promise long ages ago. God promised a Savior for the world
and a sign of the fulfillment of that promise was the great Star of the
East. The star now reminds us of God's love for mankind and of God
fulfilling His promise. The countless shining stars at night now show the burning hope of all mankind."
Santa gently laid the star upon the fireplace mantle and drew forth
from the bag a glittering red Christmas ornament.
"Teach the children, red is the first color of Christmas. It was first
used by the faithful people to remind them of the blood which was
shed for all people by the Savior. Jesus Christ gave his life and shed his
blood that every man might have God's gift to all, eternal life. Red is
deep,intense, vivid. It is the greatest color of all. It is the symbol of
the gift of God." As Santa was twisting and pulling another object out of
his bag, I heard the kitchen clock begin to strike twelve. I wanted to say
something, but he went right on.
"Teach the children", he said as the twisting and pulling suddenly
dislodged a small Christmas tree from the depths of the toy bag. He
placed it before the mantle and gently hung the red ornament on the
Christmas tree. The deep green of the fir tree was perfect background
for the ornament. Here was the second color of Christmas. "The pure
color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round," he said. "This
depicts the everlasting hope of mankind, and the everlasting life we can only
get through His Son. Green is the youthful, hopeful, abundant color of
nature. All the needles point heavenward ~ symbolic of man's need to focus on heaven. The tree itself is a symbol of that other tree, the one that
became a cross. The great, green tree has been one of man's best
friends. It has sheltered him, warmed him, made beauty for him, formed his
furniture."
Santa's eyes were beginning to twinkle now as he stood there.
Suddenly I heard a soft tinkling sound. As it grew louder, it seemed like the
sound of long ago.
"Teach the children, that as the lost sheep are found by sounds of the
bell, so should it ring for men to return to the fold; it means
guidance and return to God; it further signifies that all are precious in the eyes of the Lord. He left the 99 and went in search of the one." As the
soft sound of the bell faced into the night, Santa drew forth a candle. He
placed it on the mantle and the soft glow from its tiny flame cast an
eerie glow about the darkened room. Odd shapes in the shadow slowly
danced and weaved upon the walls.
"Teach the children," whispered Santa, "that the candle shows man's
thanks for the star of long ago. It signifies the Light that shines
within all God's people. A light that should never be hidden. It's
flame seems very weak, but it chases away the darkness, just as the stars
do. It's small light is the mirror of starlight. At first candles were
placed on the Christmas Tree ~ they were like many glowing stars shining
against the dark green. Safety now has removed the candles from the tree and the colored lights have taken over in remembrance."
Santa turned the small Christmas tree lights on and picked up a gift
from under the tree. He pointed to the large bow ribbon and said, "Teach the children. A bow is placed on a present to remind us of the spirit of
the brotherhood of man. We should remember that the bow is tied as men
should be tied ~ all of us together, with the bonds of good will and love
toward each other. Goodwill forever is the message of the bow."
Now I wondered what else Santa had in his bag. Instead of reaching in
his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and began to reach up on the
Christmas tree. I thought he was hungry as he reached for a candy cane,
purposely placed high on the tree. He unfastened it and reached out toward me
with it.
"Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherds
crook. The crook on the staff helps bring back the strayed sheep to the
fold. The candy cane represents the helping hand we should show at Christmas time. The candy is the symbol that we are our brother's keeper. The red
represents the Blood of Salvation, and the white the Purity that only
comes from it's cleansing flow."
Santa then paused. He seemed to realize he should be on his way. Later would be his big day. As he looked about the room, a feeling of
satisfaction and relief showed in his face. He reached into his bag
and brought forth a large holly wreath. He placed it on the fireplace and
said, "Please teach the children that the wreath symbolizes the
eternal nature of God's love; it never ceases, stops or ends. It is one continuous round of affection. The wreath does double duty. It is made of many
things and in many colors. It reminds us all of the things of Christmas.
Please teach the children."
As I gazed at the wreath, he slipped away, his job done....pointing
people back to the real meaning behind this celebration.
I pondered and wondered and thrilled with delight,
As I saw and viewed all those symbols that night.
I dozed as I sat in the soft candle light,
And my thoughts were of Jesus and all He made right.
To give and to help, to love and to serve,
Are the best things of life, all men can deserve.
Old Santa Claus that jolly fat little elf,
Is not the best symbol of Christmas itself.
Jesus gave us the gift of love and of life,
The ending of evil, the ceasing of strife.
Santa's message to me on the pre-Christmas night,
Has opened a treasure of deepest insight.
The one thing on earth we all ought to do,
Is the teaching of children the right and the true.
ANGELS ONCE IN AWHILE
Author Unknown
In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and
just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three
months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been
much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires
crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their
beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries. Now that
he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food
either.
If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time,
I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked
brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the
rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The seven of us went to
every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The
kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to
convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do
anything. I had to have
a job. Still no luck.
The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old
Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was
called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she
peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She
needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the
morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night. I raced
home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people.
I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night.
She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be
asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.
That night when and the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all
thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.
When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her
home with one dollar of my tip money-fully half of what I averaged every
night.
As the weeks went by, heating
bills added another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy
had the
consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with
air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.
One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found
four
tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just
those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in
Indiana? I wondered.
I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange
for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember
it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the
tires. I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't
enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys
for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and
painting some old
toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for
Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was
sewing patches on top of
patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.
On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big
Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper
named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion
and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just
sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left
to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home
at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car.
I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and
get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had
cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.) It
was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some
dark shadows in the car-or was that just a trick of the night? Something
certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I
reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my
jaw dropped
in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full-full to the top with boxes
of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door,
scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching
back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a whole case of
little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full
of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other
boxes:
There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was
an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was
pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole
bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy
trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty
streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my
life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on
the faces of
my little ones that precious morning. Yes, there were angels in Indiana
that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck
stop.
I BELIEVE IN ANGELS! They live next door, around the corner, work in
your office, patrol your neighborhood, call you at midnight to hear you
laugh and listen to you cry, teach your children, and you see them
everyday without even knowing it!.
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