Inspirational Stories
A Candymaker's Witness
A candymaker in Indiana wanted to make a candy that would be a witness, so he made the Christmas Candy Cane. He began with a stick of pure white, hard candy...white to symbolize the Virgin Birth and the sinless nature of Jesus; and hard to symbolize the Solid Rock, the foundation of the Church and firmness of the promises of God.
The candymaker made the candy in the form of a "J" to represent the precious name of Jesus, who came to earth as our savior. It could also represent the staff of the "Good Shepherd" with which He reaches down into the ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone astray.
Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candymaker stained it with red stripes. He used three small stripes to show the stripes of the scourging Jesus recieved by which we are healed. The large red stripe was for the blood shed by Christ on the cross so that we could have the promise of eternal life.
Unfortunately, the candy became known as a candy cane...a meaningless decoration seen at Christmas time. But the meaning is still there for those who "have eyes to see ".
The Cobbler and His Guest
Anne McCollum Boyles
There once lived in the city of Marseilles an old shoemaker, loved and honored by his neighbors, who affectionately called him "Father Martin" One Christmas Eve, as he sat alone in his little shop reading of the visit of the Wise Men to the infant Jesus, and of the gifts they brought, he said to himself. "If tomorrow were the first Christmas, and if Jesus were to be born in Marseilles this night, I know what I would give Him!" He rose from his stool and took from a shelf overhead two tiny shoes of softest snow- white leather, with bright silver buckles. "I would give Him those, my finest work." Replacing the shoes, he blew out the candle and retired to rest.
Hardly had he closed his eyes, it seemed, when he heard a voice call his name..."Martin! Martin!" Intuitively he felt a presence. Then the voice spoke again..."Martin, you have wished to see Me. Tomorrow I shall pass by your window. If you see Me, and bid Me enter, I shall be your guest at your table." Father Martin did not sleep that night for joy. And before it was yet dawn he rose and swept and tidied up his little shop. He spread fresh sand upon the floor, and wreathed green boughs of fir along the rafters. On the spotless linen-covered table he placed a loaf of white bread, a jar of honey, and a pitcher of milk, and over the fire he hung a pot of tea Then he took up his patient vigil at the window.
Presently he saw an old street-sweeper pass by, blowing upon his thin, gnarled hands to warm them. "Poor fellow, he must be half frozen," thought Martin. Opening the door he called out to him, "Come in, my friend, and warm, and drink a cup of hot tea." And the man gratefully accepted the invitation. An hour passed, and Martin saw a young, miserably clothed women carrying a baby. She paused wearily to rest in the shelter of his doorway. The heart of the old cobbler was touched. Quickly he flung open the door. "Come in and warm while you rest," he said to her. "You do not look well," he remarked. "I am going to the hospital. I hope they will take me in, and my baby boy," she explained. "My husband is at sea, and I am ill, without a soul." "Poor child!" cried Father Martin. "You must eat something while you are getting warm. No, Then let me give a cup of milk to the little one. Ah! What a bright, pretty fellow he is! Why, you have put no shoes on him!" "I have no shoes for him," sighed the mother sadly. "Then he shall have this lovely pair I finished yesterday." And Father Martin took down from the shelf the soft little snow-white shoes he had admired the evening before. He slipped them on the child's feet...they fit perfectly. And shortly the poor young mother left, two shoes in her hand and tearful with gratitude.
And Father Martin resumed his post at the window. Hour after hour went by, and although many people passed his window, and many needy souls shared his hospitality, the expected Guest did not appear. "It was only a dream," he sighed, with a heavy heart. "I did not believe; but he has not come." Suddenly, so it seemed to his weary eyes, the room was flooded with a strange light. And to the cobbler's astonished vision there appeared before him, one by one, the poor street-sweeper, the sick mother and her child, and all the people whom he had aided during the day. And each smiled at him and said. "Have you not seen me? Did I not sit at your table?" Then they vanished.
At last, out of the silence, Father Martin heard again the gentle voice repeating the old familiar words. "Whosoever shall receive one such in My name, receiveth Me...for I was an hungered, and ye gave Me meat; I was a thirst,and ye gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took Me in...verily I say unto you, in as much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto Me."
The Bethlehem Keeper
Amos K. Wells
What could be done? The Inn was full of folk: His Honor Marcus Lucius, and his scribes who made the census; honorable men from farthest Galilee came hitherward to be enrolled. High ladies and their lords; the rich, the rabbis, such a noble thing as Bethlehem had not seen before, and may not see again. And there they were, close herded with their servants, till the inn was like a hive at swarming time, and I was fairly crazed among them. That they were so important--just the two--no servants, just a workman sort of man, leading a donkey, and his wife thereon, drooping and pale. I saw them not myself. My servants must have driven them away. But had I seen them, how was I to know'.' Were inns to welcome stragglers, up and down in all our towns from Beersheba to Dan, till He should come? And how were men to know? 'There was a sign, they say, a heavenly light resplendent; but I had no time for stars. And there were songs of angels in the air out on the hills. But how was I to hear amid the thousand clamors of an inn?
Of course, had I known then who they were, and who was He that should be born that night--for now I learn that they will make Him King, a second David who will ransom us from these Philistine Romans. Who but He that feeds an army with a loaf of bread, and if the soldier falls He touches him, and up he leaps uninjured! Had I known, I would have turned the whole inn upside down--His Honor Marcus Lucius, and the rest, and sent them all to stables -- had I known.
So you have seen Him, stranger, and perhaps again will see Him. Please say for me I did not know; and if He comes again, as He will surely come, with retinue and banners, and an army, tell my Lord that all my inn is His, to make amends.
Alas, alas! to miss a chance like that! This inn that might be chief among them all, this birthplace of Messiah - had I known!
If Only, The Christmas Story
Louis Cassels
God born in a manger. That beautiful story escapes some people. More than likely it does so because they seek such complex answers to their questions. And this one is so utterly simple. So, for the cynics, the skeptics, and the unconvinced I submit to you a modern day parable.
This is about a modern man, one of us. No, he was not a Scrooge, but a kind, decent mostly good man. He was generous to his family, and upright with his dealings with other men. And now he was looking forward to another Christmas season. However, he did not believe in what he termed "all that incarnation stuff", which churches proclaim at Christmas time.
"It just did not make sense" and he was honest. In his mind, too honest to pretend otherwise. He just could not swallow "that Jesus Story". The one about God coming to earth as man. On Christmas Eve, he told his wife, "I hate to disappoint you, but I just can not go to church with you tonight." He said he would feel like a hypocrite, that he had much rather stay home, but that he would wait up for them.
So he stayed at home and off the family went to church. Shortly after the family drove away in the car, snow began to fall. He went to the window to watch the flurries getting heavier and heavier, he then went back to his fireside chair and began to read the newspaper. Minutes later, he was startled by a thudding sound, then another and another. At first he thought someone must be throwing snowballs against the living room window, but when he went to the door to investigate, he found a flock of birds floundering miserably in the snow. They had been caught in the storm and in a desperate search for shelter, they had tried to fly through the large picture window.
Well, he could not let the poor creatures lie there and freeze. Then he remembered the barn where his children kept their pony. That would provide a warm shelter if he could direct the birds to it. So he quickly put on a coat, his galoshes, and trampled through the deepening snow to the barn. Once there he opened the doors wide, and turned on a light, but the birds only ignored it. They would not come in.
He figured food would entice them in, and hurried back to the house, fetched bread crumbs, and sprinkled them on the snow making a trail to the yellow lighted doorway of the stable. But to his dismay, the birds ignored the crumbs. They just continued to flop around helplessly in the snow. He tried catching them, he tried shooing them into the barn by walking around an furiously waving his arms. Instead, they scattered in every direction, except into the warm lighted barn.
Suddenly, he realized they were afraid of him, to them I'm a strange and terrifying creature. If only I could think of someway to let them know they can trust me so they'd understand that I'm not trying to hurt them, but to help them. How? Any move he made only served to scare them and confuse them, they just would not follow. They could not be lead or shooed because they feared him.
If only I could be a bird myself, he thought. If only I could be a bird and mingle with them and speak their language. And tell them not to be afraid and show them the way to the warm and safe barn. But, I'd have to be one of them so they could see and hear and understand.
At that moment, the church bells began to ring. The bells were ringing so loud that the sound reached his ears above the sounds of the cold night wind. He stood there listening to those bells, Adeste Fidelis. Listening to the bells pealing their glad tidings of Christmas. And thinking about the good news he understood. And this man sank to his knees in the snow.....