Don't forget to "fill up"

   

 Good morning and happy Sunday:) Spiritual "Tank filling day" Fill it to the top so that you don't run out during the week! I pray your morning has been over filled with happiness, that the spirit is strong within you. I pray today you will have opportunity to have some special one on one time with our Father in heaven. It is a beautiful cold morning here in Utah 29 degrees with a bit of a breeze causing it to feel 25. The skies are clear, the blue is amazing and the sun is shining as bright as a child's eyes on Christmas morning!
     In prayer this morning I braved the cold, wrapped in my favorite "Betty Blankie." I sat there with the sun washing over my face in the total quiet of the morning. It was amazing and I found that even though it was cold, the "son" kept me warm the entire chat. I prayed my normal, usual morning prayers asking God to bless each of you with your needs today, to fill you with peace, calm, comfort, and love. I prayed special blessings for a young lady who is dealing with taking her grandmother off of life support, the grandmother having raised her, who has been her life force. I asked God to bless this young woman with understanding and strength to help her make the decision, to hold her and comfort her in this most sad and confusing of times. I asked God to bless a little baby who was born with intestinal problems who is so tiny and weak and in need of surgery. To hold that little angel in his arms and allow his strength to be what is needed to help this baby through. I prayed for both families as they sit and wait, filled with fear and feeling lost, that God will be right there with them, holding them tightly to his chest and comforting their every emotion with his mercy and grace. Father God I love you so very much, I am so thankful for the blessings both good and bad in my life, I ask for mercy and favor for each of us and that you always hold us and bless us with your love, your mercy and your grace. In the name of our beloved brother, Jesus Christ. Amen.

     I came across the following story and was touched deep in my heart! Have we forgotten the true reason for the season, the gift of compassion and love? I think if we really use our hearts this year and see the need of others we can begin to repair damages done by "life" and get back to the true meaning! I hope you enjoy and feel the spirit as you read!
   

A Christmas Story

It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas---oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it-overspending...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma---the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.

Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black.

These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes.

As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears.

It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat

Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them."

Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.

That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church.

On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me.

His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.

For each Christmas, I followed the tradition---one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.

The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal it's contents.

As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.

You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad.

The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.

May we all remember each other, and the Real reason for the season, and His true spirit this year and always. God bless---pass this along to your friends and loved ones.

--- Copyright © 1982 Nancy W. Gavin
--- Submitted by Edwin G. Whiting

The story first appeared in Woman's Day magazine in 1982. My mom had sent the story in as a contest entry in which she subsequently won first place. Unfortunately, she passed away from cancer two years after the story was published. Our family still keeps the tradition started by her and my father and we have passed it on to our children. Feel free to use the story. It gives me and my sisters great joy to know that it lives on and has hopefully inspired others to reach out in a way that truly honors the spirit of Christmas. --- 
Kevin Gavin

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