texan connection
Silver Member
- #1
Thread Owner
Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered theirmeans and then never had enough for the necessities.. But for those whowere genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It wasfrom him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, notfrom receiving. It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like theworld had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money tobuy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores earlythat night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra timeso we could read in the Bible. After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front ofthe fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was stillfeeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood toread Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up againand went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done allthe chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowingin self-pity. Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out andthere was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good,it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I gettingthe rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and forno earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, andI couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on anight like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one'sfeet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my bootsback on and got my cap, coat, and mittens.. Ma gave me a mysterious smileas I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn'tknow what.. Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was thework team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were goingto do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. Wenever hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pawas already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed upbeside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When Iwas on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of thewoodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the highsideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had beena bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, butwhatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the highside boards on. After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and cameout with an armload of wood - the wood I'd spent all summer hauling downfrom the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting.What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what areyou doing?" You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The WidowJensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a yearor so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight.Sure, I'd been by, but so what? Yeah," I said, "Why?" "I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around inthe woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." Thatwas all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed foranother armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high thatI began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pacalled a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa tookdown a big ham and a side 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 offlour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his lefthand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked. Shoes, they're out of shoes.Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was outin the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. Itjust wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy." We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I triedto think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldlystandards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what wasleft now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw intoblocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, sowe could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pabuying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this?Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been ourconcern. We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the woodas quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to thedoor. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Whois it?" "Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for abit?" Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrappedaround her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and weresitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gaveoff any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally litthe lamp. "We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack offlour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that hadthe shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out onepair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of thechildren - sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched hercarefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tearsfilled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Palike she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out. "We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me andsaid, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up tosize and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went backout to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as Ihate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I keptseeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their motherstanding there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitudein her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filledmy soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when ithad made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving thelives of these people. I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kidsstarted giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and WidowJensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for along time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I knowthe Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he wouldsend one of his angels to spare us." In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled upin my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before,but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probablytrue. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. Istarted remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma andme, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it. Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazedwhen they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. ThenI guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord wouldmake sure he got the right sizes. Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up toleave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. Theyclung to him and didn'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, "The Mrs. wanted me toinvite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. Theturkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can getcantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by toget you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones aroundagain. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was theyoungest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had movedaway. Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have tosay, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will." Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn'teven notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said,"Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking alittle money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle foryou, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me alittle money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma andme were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, andI started into town this morning to do just that,but on the way I sawlittle Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in thosegunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money forshoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand." I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood verywell, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low onmy list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me thelook on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensen's, or split ablock of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy Ifelt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than arifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.
