AN EARLY CHRISTMAS STORY
Pa never
had such compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then
never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need,
his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the
greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.
It was
Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had
caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle
that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some
reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the
Bible.
After supper was over I took my
boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get
down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be
honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get
the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it
out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it
long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity. Soon Pa came back in.
It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt,"
he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then.
Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in
the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the
chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not
on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging
one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots
back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I
opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know
what.
Outside, I became
even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already
hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be
a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless
we were going to haul a big load.
Pa was already up on the seat, reins
in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me.
I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and
stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put
on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It
had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but
whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high
sideboards on.
After we had exchanged
the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood ~
the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all
Fall sawing into blocks and splitting.
What was he doing? Finally I said
something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?" You been by the Widow Jensen's
lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her
husband had died a year or so before and left her with three
********, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah,"
I said, "Why?" "I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was
out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of
wood, Matt."
That was all he said and then he turned and
went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We
loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to
pull it.
Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to
the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them
to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait.
When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right
shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little
sack?" I asked. "Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny
sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I
got the ******** a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a
little candy."
We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in
silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by
worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of
what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into
blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could
spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them
shoes and candy?
Really,
why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us;
it shouldn't have been our concern. We came in from the blind side
of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then
we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door
opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?" "Lucas Miles,
Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?"
Widow Jensen
opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her
shoulders. The ******** were wrapped in another and were sitting in front
of the fireplace by a very small fire that ****** gave off any heat at
all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.
"We
brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put
the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in
it.
She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time.
There was a pair for her and one for each of the ******** ~
sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully.
She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes
and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say
something, but it wouldn't come out.
"We brought a load of wood
too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough
to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't
the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in
my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes
too.
In my mind I kept
seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing
there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart
that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never
known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but
never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving
the lives of these people.
I soon had the