Christmas has no meaning?

Jones Creek, TX(Zone 9a)

I got this from Flowox (Susan) this morning and I though I would pass it along to all her other friends too......enjoy it. A wonderful story

I know it's rather long but just keep reading.............



The Gas Station
The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't
been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away.
He had no decorations, no tree, no lights. It was just another day to
him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to
celebrate. There were no children in his life. His wife had gone.
He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for
the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened
and a homeless man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out,
George, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to
come and sit by the space heater and warm up.
"Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see
you're busy. I'll just go"
"Not without something hot in your belly," George turned and opened a
wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but
it's hot and tasty. Stew. Made it myself. When you're done
there's coffee and it's fresh."
Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse
me be right back," George said.
There in the driveway was an old 53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of
the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said
the driver with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my
car is broken."
George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from
the cold; the car was dead. "You ain't going in this thing," George
said as he turned away.
"But mister. Please help...." The door of the office closed behind
George as he went in. George went to the office wall and got the keys
to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the
building and opened the garag! e, start ed the truck and drove it around
to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said.
"She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real
good." George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped
off into the night. George turned and walked back inside the office.
"Glad I gave em the truck. Their tires were shot too. That 'ol
truck has brand new........"
George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone.
The thermos was on the desk, empty with a used coffee cup beside it.
"Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought.
George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It
cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where
the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something
to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the block
hadn't cracked; it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well,
shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.
"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took
the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and
he wasn't going to drive the car.
As he was working he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and
beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground.
Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Help me." George
helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received
in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention.
"Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company
had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used
those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can
fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease.
"Something for pain,"
George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back.
"These ought to ! work." H e put some water in a cup and gave the
policeman the pills.
"You hang in there. I'm going to get you an ambulance." The phone was
dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out
in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the
dashboard destroying the two-way radio. He went back in to find the
policeman sitting up.
"Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy
that shot me is still in the area." George sat down beside him. "I
would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave
you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding.
"Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya.
Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time
your gonna be right as rain." George got up and poured a cup of coffee.
"How do you take it?" he asked.
"None for me," said the officer. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best
in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts."
The officer laughed and winced at the same time.
The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a
gun.
"Give me all your cash!
Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George
could tell that he had never done anything like this before.
"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.
"Son, why are you doing this?" asked George. "You need to put the
cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."
The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too.
Now give me the cash!" The cop was reaching for his gun. "
"Put that thing away," George said to the cop. "We got one too many
in here now." He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's
Christmas Eve If you need the money, well then, here. It ain't much
but it's all I got. Now put that pee shooter away." George pulled
$150 out of his pocket and h! anded it to the young man, reaching for
the barrel of the gun at the same time.
The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began
to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy
something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job. My
rent is due. My car got repossessed last week..."
George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of
squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it
through the best we can." He got the young man to his feet, and sat him
down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things."
George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Being stupid is one of
the things that makes us human.
Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get
warm and we'll sort this thing out."
The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop.
"Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."
"Shut up and drink your coffee." the cop said.
George could hear the sounds of sirens outside.
A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt.
Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one
of the cops asked the wounded officer. "Not bad for a guy who took a
bullet. How did you find me?" "GPS locator in the car. Best thing
since sliced bread.
Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.
Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark.
Just dropped his gun and ran."
George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy
work here?," the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said. "Just
hired him this morning. Boy lost his job." The paramedics came in and
loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the
wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"
Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy. And you too, Geor! ge, and
thanks for everything." "Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break
there. That ought to solve some of your problems." George went into
the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box.
"Here you go. Something for the little woman. I don't think Martha
would mind.
She said it would come in handy some day." The young man looked inside
to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this,"
said the young man. "It means something to you."
"And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my
memories.
That's all I need."
George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck
appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him
to sell.
"Here's something for that little man of yours."
The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old
man had handed him earlier. "And what are you supposed to buy
Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git
home to your family." The young man turned with tears streaming down his
face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is
still good."
"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said.
"See ya the day after."
George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd
you come from? I thought you left?" "I have been here.
I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't
celebrate Christmas. Why?"
"Well, after my wife passed away I just couldn't see what all the bother
was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree.
Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by
myself and besides I was getting a little chubby."
The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder.
"But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink
and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will
bear a so! n and he will become a great doctor. The policeman you
helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists.
The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not
take any for himself. That is the spirit of the season and you keep
it as good as any man." George was taken aback by all this stranger had
said.
"And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.
"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing.
And when your days are done you will be with Martha again." The
stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I
have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration
planned."
George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the
stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began
to fill the room. "You see, George... it's my birthday. Merry
Christmas."
George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord."

THANKS FOR BEING A FRIEND !



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