Dear KKIM Family,
As more often than not I had today’s Christmas posting done, but then the Lord had Pastor Leonard send this very heart warming story in. It is our gift to you all………..all of you who make the radio ministry of KKIM and the Cup possible. This story to me has a very special meaning………it reminded me so much of my Dad and Mom! That is the up brining I am so thankful to the Lord for.
During this Christmas season I want to thank all of you for allowing me to be the shepherd of KKIM and the Cup. I am so thankful to have KKIM to look over and share the word of God. I am so thankful to have this blog to talk to you everyday and pray with you everyday. I am so thankful for your love.
I am thankful for my family and friends like you……I am thankful for the opportunity to grow in my faith, I am thankful for the opportunity to serve. AMEN!
Merry Christmas and Happy New year to all from the Moede’s and all of us at KKIM and the Cup.
Just one more thing before this heart warming Christmas story……..check out the Christmas lights video Cowboy Clarence sent us! It is posted on the front page at www.mykkim.com
Thank you Pastor Leonard for sending this is in!!!
Hey Brother Dewey.
This story blessed my life hoping and praying it will be a blessing in yours.
God bless, I am praying for you,
Leonard
a little lengthy, but one of the best Christmas stories ever…..
THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVERPa never had much compassion for the lazy or those whosquandered their means and then never had enough forthe necessities. But for those who were genuinely inneed, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It wasfrom him that I learned the greatest joy in life comesfrom giving, not from receiving.It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old andfeeling like the world had caved in on me becausethere just hadn’t been enough money to buy me therifle I’d wanted for Christmas. We did the choresearly that night for some reason. I just figured Pawanted a little extra time so we could read in theBible.After supper was over I took my boots off andstretched out in front of the fireplace and waited forPa to get down the old Bible. I was still feelingsorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn’t in muchof a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn’t get theBible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn’t figure it out because we had already doneall 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 outand there was ice in his beard. “Come on, Matt,” hesaid. “Bundle up good, it’s cold out tonight.” I wasreally upset then. Not only wasn’t I getting therifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in thecold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We’d already done all the chores, and I couldn’t thinkof anything else that needed doing, especially not ona night like this.But I knew Pa was not very patient at one draggingone’s feet when he’d told them to do something, so Igot up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat,and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as Iopened the door to leave the house. Something was up,but I didn’t know what.Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in frontof the house was the work team, already hitched to thebig sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn’tgoing to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going tohaul a big load.Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. Ireluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold wasalready biting at me. I wasn’t happy. When I was on,Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped infront of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. “Ithink we’ll put on the high sideboards,” he said. “Here, help me.” The high sideboards! It had been abigger job than I wanted to do with just the lowsideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to dowould be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on.After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went intothe woodshed and came out with an armload ofwood—the wood I’d spent all summer hauling down fromthe mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks andsplitting. What was he doing? Finally I saidsomething. “Pa,” I asked, “what are you doing?” “Youbeen by the Widow Jensen’s lately,” he asked. TheWidow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Herhusband had died a year or so before and left her withthree children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I’dbeen by, but so what? “Yeah,” I said, “Why?” “I rodeby just today,” Pa said. “Little Jakey was outdigging around in the woodpile trying to find a fewchips. They’re out of wood, Matt.”That was all he said and then he turned and went backinto the woodshed for another armload of wood. Ifollowed him. We loaded the sled so high that I beganto wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we wentto the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and aside of bacon. He handed them to me and told me toput them in the sled and wait.When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour overhis right shoulder and a smaller sack of something inhis left hand. “What’s in the little sack?” I asked. “Shoes. They’re out of shoes. Little Jakey just hadgunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out inthe woodpile this morning. I got the children alittle candy, too. It just wouldn’t be Christmaswithout a little candy.”We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen’s pretty much insilence. 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 wasleft now was still in the form of logs that I wouldhave to saw into blocks and split before we could useit. We also had meat and flour, so we could sparethat, but I knew we didn’t have any money, so why wasPa buying them shoes and candy?Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensenhad closer neighbors than us; it shouldn’t have beenour concern. We came in from the blind side of theJensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly aspossible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes tothe door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and atimid 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 ablanket wrapped around her shoulders. The childrenwere wrapped in another and were sitting in front ofthe fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gaveoff any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with amatch and finally lit the lamp. “We brought you a fewthings, Ma’am,” Pa said and set down the sack offlour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handedher the sack that had the shoes in it.She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out onepair at a time. There was a pair for her and one foreach of the children—sturdy shoes, the best, shoesthat would last. I watched her carefully. She bither lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tearsfilled 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. Heturned to me and said, “Matt, go bring in enough tolast awhile. Let’s get that fire up to size and heatthis place up.” I wasn’t the same person when I wentback out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in mythroat and as much as I hate to admit it, there weretears in my eyes too.In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddledaround the fireplace and their mother standing therewith tears running down her cheeks with so muchgratitude in her heart that she couldn’t speak. Myheart swelled within me and a joy that I’d never knownbefore filled my soul. I had given at Christmas manytimes before, but never when it had made so muchdifference. I could see we were literally saving thelives of these people.I soon had the fire blazing and everyone’s spiritssoared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed themeach a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on witha smile that probably hadn’t crossed her face for along time. She finally turned to us. “God blessyou,” she said. “I know the Lord has sent you. Thechildren and I have been praying that he would sendone of his angels to spare us.”In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat andthe tears welled up in my eyes again. I’d neverthought of Pa in those exact terms before, but afterWidow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it wasprobably true. I was sure that a better man than Pahad never walked the earth. I started remembering allthe times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me,and many others. The list seemed endless as I thoughton it.Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before weleft. I was amazed when they all fit and I wonderedhow he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessedthat if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lordwould make sure he got the right sizes.Tears were running down Widow Jensen’s face again whenwe stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in hisbig arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him anddidn’t want us to go. I could see that they missedtheir Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, “TheMrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over forChristmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be morethan the three of us can eat, and a man can getcantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too manymeals. We’ll be by to get you about eleven. It’ll benice to have some little ones around again. Matt,here, hasn’t been little for quite a spell.” I wasthe youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had allmarried and moved away. Widow Jensen nodded and said,”Thank you, Brother Miles. I don’t have to say, ‘Maythe Lord bless you,’ I know for certain that He will.”Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deepwithin and I didn’t even notice the cold. When we hadgone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, “Matt, I wantyou to know something. Your ma and me have beentucking a little money away here and there all year sowe could buy that rifle for you, but we didn’t havequite enough.Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money fromyears back came by to make things square. Your ma andme were real excited, thinking that now we could getyou that rifle, and I started into town this morningto do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakeyout scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrappedin those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candyfor those children. I hope you understand.”I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again.I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had doneit. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list ofpriorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had givenme the look on Widow Jensen’s face and the radiantsmiles of her three children.For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of theJensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, andremembering brought back that same joy I felt ridinghome beside Pa that night. Pa had given me the bestChristmas of my life.
Remembering Christ,
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