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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/1/2008 8:12:05 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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"The Old Golfer"
Moses, Jesus and an old man are golfing. Moses steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and lands in the water trap. Moses parts the water and chips the ball onto the green.
Jesus steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and lands in the water trap. Jesus just walks on the water and chips the ball onto the green.
The old man steps up to the tee and hits the ball. It goes sailing over the fairway and heads for the water trap. But, just before it falls into the water, a fish jumps up and grabs the ball in its mouth. As the fish is falling back down into the water, an eagle swoops down and grabs the fish in its claws. The eagle flies over the green where a lightning bolt shoots from the sky and barely misses it. Startled, the eagle drops the fish. When the fish hits the ground, the ball pops out of its mouth and rolls into the hole for a hole-in-one.
Jesus then turns to the old man and says, "Dad, if you don't stop fooling around, we won't bring you next time."
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/1/2008 11:09:48 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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25 Days Of Christmas
Click on link below:
http://www.alighthouse.com/25days.htm
< Message edited by Smokymtnsanta -- 12/1/2008 11:19:22 PM >
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/4/2008 10:26:29 AM
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BBfan
Posts: 10677
Joined: 9/13/2007
From: SC Low Country
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I don't know if this one has been posted before but I received it in an email this morning from Brenda and I thought it was worth sharing in this thread....
Hanky Alert!!!!
Three years ago, a little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin . The child climbed up on his lap, holding a picture of a little girl. "Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend? Your sister?"
"Yes, Santa," he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly.
Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
"She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!" the child exc laimed. "She misses you," he added softly.
Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas. When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted.
"What is it?" Santa asked warmly.
"Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but ." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors. "The girl in the photograph . My granddaughter .. Well, you see .. She has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any way, Santa .. Any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa."
Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the wo man to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that hospital bed, dying," he thought w ith a sinking heart, "this is the least I can do."
When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location manager how to get to Children's Hospital.
"Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day. "C'mon ... I'll take you there," Rick said softly.
Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall. Santa quietly peeked into the room thr ough the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently pus hing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with weary, sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah. Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!"
"Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him, IV tubes in tact.
Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son -- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her sho rt tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he co uld hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room. As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year. As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels.
"Oh, yes, Santa ... I do!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you,! "he said. Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night . all is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all. When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in his own.
"Now, Sarah," he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends thi s summer, and I expect to see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!" He knew it was risky proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he "had" to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE.
"Yes, Santa!" Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room. Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed. Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa's side to thank him.
"My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do." They nodded with understanding and hugged him.
One year later, Santa Mark w as again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap. "Hi, Santa! Remember me?!"
"Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her.
After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that moment.
"You came to see me in the hospital last year!" Santa's jaw dropped.
Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long an d silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.
That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus. He had witnessed --and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope. This precious little child was healed. Cance r-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, Merry Christmas!
_____________________________
~Lynn
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/4/2008 11:07:46 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
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I think this had been posted before but thank you so much for posting it again. Now to go wash my face. VERY good story. Thanks.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/4/2008 11:59:10 AM
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Qtman
Posts: 9473
Joined: 3/21/2006
From: Crimson Tide Country
Status: offline
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Sounds like something our very own Santa would have done.
_____________________________
STRESS = The internal struggle created when the brain trys to over ride the heart's desire to tell off some jerk that really deserves to be told off.
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/4/2008 6:18:40 PM
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1974Dorene
Posts: 334
Joined: 5/4/2008
From: Tellico Plains,TN
Status: offline
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Thanks for all the good stories, reminds us of the real reason for the season. I enjoy reading them and passing them on to my friends.
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/4/2008 11:08:46 PM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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A Different Christmas Poem
(Hanky Alert)
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
Sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue.. An American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
People as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our
U.S service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
Festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people
Stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/7/2008 7:24:22 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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"CHRISTMAS BEATITUDES"
Blessed is December,
for Christmas is near.
Blessed are the poor of pocket,
for they shall be called parents.
Blessed are the artistic,
for they shall wrap gifts for everyone.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall
restrain children from knocking over the tree.
Blessed are they who are heavily laden,
for they shall be called shoppers.
Blessed are they who weave paper garlands,
produce plays and wear a confused look,
for they shall be called teachers.
Blessed are they who hunger for turkey and
trimmings (and happily do the dishes),
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed is the sweater knit in secret,
coins sent to a food bank, dinner for a shut-in,
for these shall be called love.
Blessed are we who, despite the chaos, hold
the real Christmas closely in our hearts,
for we shall be called glad.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/7/2008 7:26:35 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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BOBBY'S NEW SHOES (Hanky Alert)
by Nancy B. Gibbs
On a cold winter morning in the late 1930s Bobby awoke early.
It wasn't a day that would be remembered by many, nor would it
go down in history as especially important. But it was a day that
Bobby would never forget.
Bobby, his mother, and his three younger brothers were once
again abandoned by Bobby's father. When times got hard, the man who
was supposed to be the head of the house left home. He couldn't
handle the responsibility of a hungry family. It wasn't the first
time he left, so Bobby wasn't surprised.
Bobby searched the bare cupboards and realized there was no food
in the kitchen. His tummy was growling. So he put on the warmest
clothes he had.
He pulled on an old pair of socks and placed cardboard in his
worn-out shoes. With holes in the soles, he hoped the cardboard would
help keep his feet dry, at least for a little while.
Bobby hit the roads looking for work. He was a strong child and
had worked many times before. His goal was to earn enough money to
purchase food for the day along with a few cans of vegetables for
Christmas dinner.
A few blocks from home, Bobby came across some men working on
the side of the road.
"Can I help?" Bobby inquired.
"Sure," one of the men answered and tossed him a shovel. Bobby
worked hard for hours. Suddenly, the rain and sleet pounded down.
"Here's your money," one of the men shouted, as he tossed him a
few coins. "Go home and get out of this weather."
Bobby clutched the change in the palm of his hand. He then ran
to the nearest grocery store. He used the money to buy as much food
as he could afford. His socks were soaking wet. His feet were numb.
While holding a small bag of groceries, Bobby stopped to adjust the
cardboard in his shoes.
A man in uniform, a representative from The Salvation Army,
witnessed Bobby's distress.
"Hey son," the kind gentleman said. "Are those the only shoes you have?"
"Yes Sir," Bobby confessed.
The uniformed man took Bobby and bought him a brand new pair of
shoes. Bobby danced and skipped all the way home.
I wasn't there on that cold December day. But I've heard the
story many times and could always picture my father, as a child,
dancing and skipping, wearing a shiny pair of dress shoes home.
Daddy often spoke about how he could see his reflection in those
special shoes.
Several years later, Daddy joined the Navy. He continued to
send money home to support his family. But Daddy always saved enough
money for the Salvation Army, hoping that another little boy
somewhere may receive a new pair of shoes for Christmas.
The tradition lasted until my father became too ill to shop.
Daddy passed away six years ago.
It is my hope that many people will remember this story when
they hear the Salvation Army bells ring at store fronts and malls all
over this country. And in Daddy's memory, I pray that little
children everywhere will have the opportunity to dance and skip.
While the new shoes kept Bobby's feet warm in the 1930s, his act
of giving back for several decades warmed his heart in a much greater
way.
Each time I drop money in a Salvation Army bucket, I remember my
father, his story, and his first new pair of shoes. Then I count it
as a blessing to be able to give.
In my mind's eye, I can see a child somewhere -- dancing,
skipping and wearing a new pair of dress shoes -- and my heart is
warmed, as well.
-- Nancy B. Gibbs <nancybgibbs at aol.com>
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/7/2008 7:30:10 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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Dinana posted this a little over a year ago. Thought it was worth reposting:
Dear Children:
It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival. Although I do appreciate being remembered anytime.
How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
Now, having said that let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.
Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.
If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:
1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.
2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.
3. Instead of writing George complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.
4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.
5. Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.
6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile; it could make the difference.
7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one.
8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary-- especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.
9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you .
10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.
Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love, and remember:
I LOVE YOU,
JESUS
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/7/2008 7:34:52 AM
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GVfan
Posts: 17794
Joined: 3/28/2006
From: The Peach State
Status: offline
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Amen!
_____________________________
Donna Hefner
Acworth, Ga.
Come visit me at
http://www.myspace.com/donnashappenings
And my BLOG, Keepin' An Eye on Greater
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/8/2008 7:52:28 AM
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GVfan
Posts: 17794
Joined: 3/28/2006
From: The Peach State
Status: offline
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Donna Campbell just sent this to me and I thank her for the timely reminder!
quote:
I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her. On the way, my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would
be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" she snorted .... "Ridiculous! Don't believe it! That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."
"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.
That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car." Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.
I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note telling the
teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down."Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.
Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.
Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.
May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
_____________________________
Donna Hefner
Acworth, Ga.
Come visit me at
http://www.myspace.com/donnashappenings
And my BLOG, Keepin' An Eye on Greater
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/8/2008 8:49:04 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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Posted by Sam a little over a year ago. Worth repeating:
Hanky Alert:
I received this in an e-mail and thought I would pass it on. Unfortunately I do not know thw author.
Christmas Poem
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF
PLASTER AND STONE.
I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY
WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO
IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.
I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,
A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT EVEN A TREE.
NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT
CAME THROUGH MY MIND.
FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,
IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,
ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.
THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,
SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR
IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.
THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,
THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER ,
NOT HOW I PICTURED
A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.
WAS THIS THE HERO
OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,
THE FLOOR FOR A BED?
I REALIZED THE FAMILIES
THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS
WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.
SOON ROUND THE WORLD,
THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.
THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM
EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,
LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.
I COULDN'T HELP WONDER
HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE
IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.
THE VERY THOUGHT
BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES
AND STARTED TO CRY.
THE SOLDIER AWAKENED
AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
"SANTA DON'T CRY,
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;
I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,
I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD,
MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."
THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER
AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN'T C ONTROL IT,
I CONTINUED TO WEEP.
I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,
SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE
ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR
SO WILLING TO FIGHT.
THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,
WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA,
IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."
ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,
AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,
AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/8/2008 8:53:08 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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"CHRISTMAS BEATITUDES"
Blessed is December,
for Christmas is near.
Blessed are the poor of pocket,
for they shall be called parents.
Blessed are the artistic,
for they shall wrap gifts for everyone.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall
restrain children from knocking over the tree.
Blessed are they who are heavily laden,
for they shall be called shoppers.
Blessed are they who weave paper garlands,
produce plays and wear a confused look,
for they shall be called teachers.
Blessed are they who hunger for turkey and
trimmings (and happily do the dishes),
for they shall be satisfied.
Blessed is the sweater knit in secret,
coins sent to a food bank, dinner for a shut-in,
for these shall be called love.
Blessed are we who, despite the chaos, hold
the real Christmas closely in our hearts,
for we shall be called glad.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/8/2008 8:55:55 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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"Twelve Days of Fast Food"
On the first day of Christmas,
my drive through gave to me:
a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the second day of Christmas,
my drive through gave to me:
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the third day of Christmas,
my drive through gave to me:
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the fourth day of Christmas,
my drive through gave to me:
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the fifth day of Christmas,
my drive through gave to me:
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the sixth day of Christmas,
My drive through gave to me:
Six chocolate milkshakes,
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the seventh day of Christmas,
My drive through gave to me:
Seven pints of cole slaw,
Six chocolate milkshakes,
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the eighth day of Christmas,
My drive through gave to me:
Eight bowls of chili,
Seven pints of cole slaw,
Six chocolate milkshakes,
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the ninth day of Christmas,
My drive through gave to me:
Nine polish hot dogs,
Eight bowls of chili,
Seven pints of cole slaw,
Six chocolate milkshakes,
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the tenth day of Christmas,
My drive through gave to me:
Ten baked potatoes,
Nine polish hot dogs,
Eight bowls of chili,
Seven pints of cole slaw,
Six chocolate milkshakes,
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the eleventh day of Christmas,
My drive through gave to me:
Eleven pounds of blubber,
Ten baked potatoes,
Nine polish hot dogs,
Eight bowls of chili,
Seven pints of cole slaw,
Six chocolate milkshakes,
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese.
On the twelfth day of Christmas,
My drive through gave to me:
Twelve bags of Pepto,
Eleven pounds of blubber,
Ten baked potatoes,
Nine polish hot dogs,
Eight bowls of chili,
Seven pints of cole slaw,
Six chocolate milkshakes,
Five onion rings,
Four Egg McMuffins,
Three Biggie Fries,
Two Happy Meals,
and a Big Bacon Classic with cheese
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/9/2008 9:44:38 AM
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Smokymtnsanta
Posts: 13529
Joined: 6/13/2006
From: The North
Status: offline
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Especially at Christmastime, may we remember that little baby born to live and die for us. Please put Jesus in His rightful place on His birthday.
I shall pass this way but once, therefore,
Any good that I can do, any kindness I can show,
Let me do it now, for I shall not pass this way again.
(Hanky Alert)
~ A Baby's Hug ~
We were the only family with children in the restaurant.
I sat our baby, Erik, in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking.
Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.'
He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray.
His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin,
as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.
I looked around and saw the source of his merriment.
It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast
and his toes poked out of would-be shoes.
His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed.
His whiskers were too short to be called a beard
and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.
We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled.
His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. 'Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy.
I see ya, buster,' the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, 'What do we do?'
Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.'
Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us an d then at the man.
The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby.
Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room,
'Do ya patty cake?
Do you know peek-a-boo?
Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.'
Nobody thought the old man was cute.
He was obviously drunk.
My husband and I were embarrassed.
We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire
for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.
We finally got through the meal and headed for the door.
My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot.
The old man sat poised between me and the door.
'Lord, just let me o ut of here before he speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed.
As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him
and avoid any air he might be breathing.
As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man.
Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby
consummated their love and kinship.
Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission
laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder.
The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes.
His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor ,
cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back.
No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.
I stood awestruck.
The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms
and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine.
He said in a firm commanding voice, 'You take care of this baby.'
Somehow I managed, 'I will,' from a throat that contained a stone.
He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain.
I received my baby, and the man said,
'God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift.'
I said nothing more than a muttered thanks.
With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car.
My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly,
and why I was saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.'
I had just witnessed Christ's love
shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin,
who made no judgment;
a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes.
I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not.
felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share your son for a moment?'
when He shared His for all eternity.
The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me,
'To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.'
"Through the eyes of a child"
If this has blessed you, please bless others by sending it on.
Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important.
We must always remember who we are, where we came from and,
most importantly, how we feel about others.
The clothes on your back or the car that you drive or the house that you live in
does not define you at all;
it is how you treat your fellow man that identifies who you are.
_____________________________
Visit www.smokymountainsanta.com
Please pray for Eva Mae LeFevre each day
Santa and Gabrielle Lovelace
Jesus Is The Reason For The Seasons
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RE: Inspirations From Santa - 12/9/2008 9:46:45 AM
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