This is sort of long, but it's a GREAT story.... Merry Christmas everyone.
>
> Thought I would share this as we begin the holiday season!
>
>
> An 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 garage, started 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 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." He 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.
>
> George 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
> handed 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, George, 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 son 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."
>
> .. . . . .
>
> "What you do today, right now, will have an accumulated effect on all your
> tomorrows."

>Author Unknown
>
>
>
> -------------------------------------------------------------------

The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, My strength, in whom I will trust; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. Psalm 18:2

John Trevino