The Faded Blue Blanket
By: Fred Bauer
The most frighten shepherd that night was little Ladius, just ten. He cowered behind his three older brothers when the blinding star lit the hillside. When the angel appeared, he hid behind a huge rock. Yet after Ladius heard the glad news, fear left him, and he limped back to his brothers, who were planning to set out for Bethlehem.
"Who will tend the sheep?" asked Samuel, the oldest at sixteen. Ladius, leaning aganist his shepherd's crook to support a crippled foot, volunteered, "I'd only slow you down. Let me stay with the sheep." He wet his lips as eh talked. The brothers weakly protested at first, then made plans to go.
"We must each take a gift," said Samuel. One brother chose his flint to start a fire for the Christ child. Another picked meadow lilies to make a garland for the king. Samuel decided on his most precious possession-- his gold ring.
"Here-- take my blanket to him,"said Ladius. It was badly worn, a faded blue with patches.
"No, Ladius," said Samuel tenderly. 'The blanket is too tattered to give even to a begger-- let alone a king. Besides, you'll need it tonight."
The brothers departed, leaving Ladius alone by the fire. he laid his head upon the blanket and buried his face with his hands. Tears forced their way between his fingers, but soon the hush of the night soothed the boy's heartbreak. The world in silent stillness lay...
"Are you coming, Laduis?"called a voice. Stamding nearby was the same angel who had brought the news. "You wanted to see the child, didn't you?"
"Yes," nodded Ladius, "but I must stay here."
"My name is Gabriel," said the angel, "your sheep will be watched. Take my hand, and bring your blanket. The child may need it."
Suddenly Ladius was outside a stable. Kneeling by a manger were his brothers. Ladius started to call out, but the angel lifted a finger to his lips.
"Give me the blanket," Gabriel wispered. The angel took it and quietly covered the baby. But the blanket was no longer faded. Now it glistened like dew in the brillance of a new day. Returning , Gabriel squeezed Ladius's hand: "Your gift was best, because you gave all that you had...."
"Wake up, Ladius, wake up!" The boy rubbed his eyes and tied to shield them from the glaring sun. Hovering over him was Samuel.
"Did you find him?" asked Ladius.
"Yes," replied Samuel, "but tell me why you were sleeping without your blanket."
Ladius looked about with wonder. The faded blue blanket was no where to be found--then, or thereafter.
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christmas. Show all posts
Friday, December 23, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Day 4
The Christams Orange
Jake lived in an orphanage with eight other boys. In the wintertime it seemed any extra money went for coalto heat the old buildings. At Christmas, the buildings always seemed a litle warmer, and the food a little more plentiful, but more than any of these things..... Christmas meant an orange. It was the only time of year such a rare treat was provided, and it was coveted by each boy like no other thing that thay ever possessed.
Each boy would save his orange for several dyas, admiring it, feeling it, loving it, and comtemplating the moment he would eat it. Some would even save it until New Years Day or later, much like many of us relish saving our Christmas treed and decoations until New Years, just to remind us of the joy of Christmas.
This particular Christmas Day, Jake had broken the orphanage rules by starting a fight. The orphanage mother took Jake's orange away as punishmentfor the crime committed. Jake spent Christmas day empty and alone. Nighttime came and Jake could not sleep; slilently, he sobbed because this year he would not have the orange to savorwith the other boys.
A soft hand placed on Jake's shoulder startled him, and an oblect was quickly shoved into his hands. The child then disappeared into the dark to leave Jake alone to discover a strange looking orange... an orange made from segments of nine other oranges....nine highly prized oranges that had to be eaten that Christmas night, instead of savd, admired, and cherished until a later date.
Jake lived in an orphanage with eight other boys. In the wintertime it seemed any extra money went for coalto heat the old buildings. At Christmas, the buildings always seemed a litle warmer, and the food a little more plentiful, but more than any of these things..... Christmas meant an orange. It was the only time of year such a rare treat was provided, and it was coveted by each boy like no other thing that thay ever possessed.
Each boy would save his orange for several dyas, admiring it, feeling it, loving it, and comtemplating the moment he would eat it. Some would even save it until New Years Day or later, much like many of us relish saving our Christmas treed and decoations until New Years, just to remind us of the joy of Christmas.
This particular Christmas Day, Jake had broken the orphanage rules by starting a fight. The orphanage mother took Jake's orange away as punishmentfor the crime committed. Jake spent Christmas day empty and alone. Nighttime came and Jake could not sleep; slilently, he sobbed because this year he would not have the orange to savorwith the other boys.
A soft hand placed on Jake's shoulder startled him, and an oblect was quickly shoved into his hands. The child then disappeared into the dark to leave Jake alone to discover a strange looking orange... an orange made from segments of nine other oranges....nine highly prized oranges that had to be eaten that Christmas night, instead of savd, admired, and cherished until a later date.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Day 3
A Boy Learns A Lesson
Thomas S. Monson
In about my tenth year, as Christmas approached I longed for an electric train. The time were those of econamic depression, yet Mother and Dad purchased for me a lovely electric train. Christmas morning bright and early I thrilled when I noticed my train. The next few hours were devoted to operating the transformer and watching the engine pull its cars forward andthen backward around the track.
Mother said that she had purchased a wind-up train for Widow Hansen's boy, Mark, who lived down the lane at Gale Street. As I looked at his train, I noticed a tanker car which I so much admired. I put up such a fuss that my mother succumbed to my pleadings, and gave me the tanker car. I put it with my train set and felt plaesed. Mother and I took the remaining cars and engine down to Mark Hansen.
The young boy was a year or two older than I. He had never anticipated such a gift. He was thrilled beyond words. He wound the key in his engine, it not being eletric, nor expesive like mine, and was overjoyed as the engine and three cars, plus a caboose, went around the track.
I felt a horrible sence of guilt as I returned home. The tanker car no longer appealed to me. Suddenly , I took the tank car in my hand, plus an additional car of my own, and ran all the way down to Gale Street and proudly announced to Mark, " We forgot to bring two cars which belong to your train." I don't know when a deed has made me feel any better than that experiance as a ten-year-old boy.
Thomas S. Monson
In about my tenth year, as Christmas approached I longed for an electric train. The time were those of econamic depression, yet Mother and Dad purchased for me a lovely electric train. Christmas morning bright and early I thrilled when I noticed my train. The next few hours were devoted to operating the transformer and watching the engine pull its cars forward andthen backward around the track.
Mother said that she had purchased a wind-up train for Widow Hansen's boy, Mark, who lived down the lane at Gale Street. As I looked at his train, I noticed a tanker car which I so much admired. I put up such a fuss that my mother succumbed to my pleadings, and gave me the tanker car. I put it with my train set and felt plaesed. Mother and I took the remaining cars and engine down to Mark Hansen.
The young boy was a year or two older than I. He had never anticipated such a gift. He was thrilled beyond words. He wound the key in his engine, it not being eletric, nor expesive like mine, and was overjoyed as the engine and three cars, plus a caboose, went around the track.
I felt a horrible sence of guilt as I returned home. The tanker car no longer appealed to me. Suddenly , I took the tank car in my hand, plus an additional car of my own, and ran all the way down to Gale Street and proudly announced to Mark, " We forgot to bring two cars which belong to your train." I don't know when a deed has made me feel any better than that experiance as a ten-year-old boy.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Day 2
Wally's Christmas Pageant
For years now, whenever Christmas pageants are mentioned in a certain little town in the Midwest, someone is sure to mention the name of Wallace Purling. Wally was nine and in the second grade, although he should have been in the fourth. He was big and clumsy, slow in mind and movement. Still he was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than him.He was always a helpful boy, willing and smilling, a natural protectorof the underdog. Wally fancied the idea of being a shepherd in the Christmas pageant that year, but he was assigned to a more important role. After all, the play's director reasoned, the innkeeper didn't have to many lines, and Wally's size would make his refusal of lodging to Joseph more forceful
No one onstage or off was more caught up in the magic of pageant nihgt than Wallace Purling. The time came when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop. Wally the innkeeper was there waiting.
" What do you want?" Wally said, swinging the door open with a brusque gesture.
" We seek lodging." Joseph said.
" Seek it elsewhere." Wally looked straight ahead but spoke vigorously. 'The inn is filled. There is no room in the inn for you." He looked properly stern.
" Please, good innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surly you must have some small corner for her. She is so tired."
Now, for the first time, the innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. There was a long pause. "No! Begone!" the prompter whispered from the wings. "No" Wally repeated automatically. "Begone!"
Joseph sadly placed his arm Mary, and the two of the started to move away. The innkeeper did not return inside the inn however. Wally stood there in the doorway, watching the forlom couple. His mouth wae open, his brow creased with concern, his eyes filling unmistakingly with tears. And suddenly the Christmas pageant became different from all others. "Don't go Joseph," Wally cried out, "Bring Mary back." His face brightened with a big smile "You can have my room."
Some people in town thought the pageant had been ruined. Yet there were the others-many, many others- who considered it the most Christmasy of all the Christmas pageants they had ever seen.
For years now, whenever Christmas pageants are mentioned in a certain little town in the Midwest, someone is sure to mention the name of Wallace Purling. Wally was nine and in the second grade, although he should have been in the fourth. He was big and clumsy, slow in mind and movement. Still he was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom were smaller than him.He was always a helpful boy, willing and smilling, a natural protectorof the underdog. Wally fancied the idea of being a shepherd in the Christmas pageant that year, but he was assigned to a more important role. After all, the play's director reasoned, the innkeeper didn't have to many lines, and Wally's size would make his refusal of lodging to Joseph more forceful
No one onstage or off was more caught up in the magic of pageant nihgt than Wallace Purling. The time came when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding Mary to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door set into the painted backdrop. Wally the innkeeper was there waiting.
" What do you want?" Wally said, swinging the door open with a brusque gesture.
" We seek lodging." Joseph said.
" Seek it elsewhere." Wally looked straight ahead but spoke vigorously. 'The inn is filled. There is no room in the inn for you." He looked properly stern.
" Please, good innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surly you must have some small corner for her. She is so tired."
Now, for the first time, the innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and looked down at Mary. There was a long pause. "No! Begone!" the prompter whispered from the wings. "No" Wally repeated automatically. "Begone!"
Joseph sadly placed his arm Mary, and the two of the started to move away. The innkeeper did not return inside the inn however. Wally stood there in the doorway, watching the forlom couple. His mouth wae open, his brow creased with concern, his eyes filling unmistakingly with tears. And suddenly the Christmas pageant became different from all others. "Don't go Joseph," Wally cried out, "Bring Mary back." His face brightened with a big smile "You can have my room."
Some people in town thought the pageant had been ruined. Yet there were the others-many, many others- who considered it the most Christmasy of all the Christmas pageants they had ever seen.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Day 1
For the next week I will share with you my favorite Christmas stories.
Jello Christmas
By Sandra Bateman
It was but a few short days until Christmas in 1966. Two young Elders of the Mormon church walked the streets of Laredo, Texas, knocking on doors in search of someone who would listen to their gospel message. No one, it seemed, in the entire city had time to hear the teachings of the Savior, so intent were they that the celebration of His birth should suit their own purposes.
Filled with discouragement, the two young men turned their backs to the approching twilight and began the long walk home. Retracing their steps of the of the afternoon, they came upon a low, windswept riverbank. Jutting from its brow stood the barest means of shelter, constructed of weathered wooden slats and a large piece of cardboard. Strangely, they felt moved to go to the door and knock. A small, olive skinned child with tangled black hair and large dark eyes answered. Her mother apperad behind her, a short, thin woman with a tired but worm smile. In her rich Spanish alto, she invited the young men to come in and rest a while. They were made welcomed and seated on teh clean swept floor. The little one-room shanty seemed to be filled with shy, smiling, dark-eyed children. The mother proudly introduced each of them-- eight in all-- anad each in turn quickly bobbed his or her head.
The young men were deeply moved at the extreme poverty they saw. No one in the family had shoes, and their clothes were ill-fitting and in conditioin beyond mending. The walls of the little home showed daylight between the wooden slats, and eight littel rolls of bedding were pressed tightly together into the cracks to help keep out the drafts until they were needed for sleeping.
A small round fire pit dug in one corner marked the kitchen. An odd assortment of chipped dishes and pots were stacked beside an old ice chest, and a curtained-off setion with a cracked with a porcelain tub served as the bathing area. Except for these the room was bearen. The mother told how her husband had gone north to find employment. He had written that he had found a job of manual labor and that it took most of his small wage to pay his board and room. But, she told the young men, he had managed to save fifty cents to send to them Christmas, with witch she had purchased two boxes of fruit gelatin. It was one of the children's favorites and would make a special treat on Christmas day.
The next morning, as soon as the local shops opened, the young men hurried to the dime store and purchased as many crayons, cars, trucks and little inexpensive toys as they could afford. Each was carefully wrapped in brightly colored paperanda all were put in a large grocery bag. That evening the two young men took their gifts to the shanty on the riverbank. When they knocked, the mother swung the door the door open wide and invited them in. They stepped inside and in halting Spanish explained to the children that they had seen Santa and he had been in such a hurry, he'd asked if they would deliver his gifts to the children for him.
With cries of delight the children scrambled for the bag, spilling its contents upon the floor and quickly dividing the treasured packeges. Silently the mother's eyes filled with tears of gratitude. She stepped forward to clasp tightly one of each of the young men's hands in her's. For long moments she was unable to speak. Then with tears still welling from her, she smiled and said "on one ever has been so kind. You have given us a special gift, the kind of love that lights Christmas in the heart. May we also give you a special gift?" From the corner of the room she drew out the two small boxes of fruit gelatin and handed them to the young men. Then all eyes were moist. All knew the true meaning of giving, and none would ever forget that at Christmas, the greatest gift of all was given.
Jello Christmas
By Sandra Bateman
It was but a few short days until Christmas in 1966. Two young Elders of the Mormon church walked the streets of Laredo, Texas, knocking on doors in search of someone who would listen to their gospel message. No one, it seemed, in the entire city had time to hear the teachings of the Savior, so intent were they that the celebration of His birth should suit their own purposes.
Filled with discouragement, the two young men turned their backs to the approching twilight and began the long walk home. Retracing their steps of the of the afternoon, they came upon a low, windswept riverbank. Jutting from its brow stood the barest means of shelter, constructed of weathered wooden slats and a large piece of cardboard. Strangely, they felt moved to go to the door and knock. A small, olive skinned child with tangled black hair and large dark eyes answered. Her mother apperad behind her, a short, thin woman with a tired but worm smile. In her rich Spanish alto, she invited the young men to come in and rest a while. They were made welcomed and seated on teh clean swept floor. The little one-room shanty seemed to be filled with shy, smiling, dark-eyed children. The mother proudly introduced each of them-- eight in all-- anad each in turn quickly bobbed his or her head.
The young men were deeply moved at the extreme poverty they saw. No one in the family had shoes, and their clothes were ill-fitting and in conditioin beyond mending. The walls of the little home showed daylight between the wooden slats, and eight littel rolls of bedding were pressed tightly together into the cracks to help keep out the drafts until they were needed for sleeping.
A small round fire pit dug in one corner marked the kitchen. An odd assortment of chipped dishes and pots were stacked beside an old ice chest, and a curtained-off setion with a cracked with a porcelain tub served as the bathing area. Except for these the room was bearen. The mother told how her husband had gone north to find employment. He had written that he had found a job of manual labor and that it took most of his small wage to pay his board and room. But, she told the young men, he had managed to save fifty cents to send to them Christmas, with witch she had purchased two boxes of fruit gelatin. It was one of the children's favorites and would make a special treat on Christmas day.
The next morning, as soon as the local shops opened, the young men hurried to the dime store and purchased as many crayons, cars, trucks and little inexpensive toys as they could afford. Each was carefully wrapped in brightly colored paperanda all were put in a large grocery bag. That evening the two young men took their gifts to the shanty on the riverbank. When they knocked, the mother swung the door the door open wide and invited them in. They stepped inside and in halting Spanish explained to the children that they had seen Santa and he had been in such a hurry, he'd asked if they would deliver his gifts to the children for him.
With cries of delight the children scrambled for the bag, spilling its contents upon the floor and quickly dividing the treasured packeges. Silently the mother's eyes filled with tears of gratitude. She stepped forward to clasp tightly one of each of the young men's hands in her's. For long moments she was unable to speak. Then with tears still welling from her, she smiled and said "on one ever has been so kind. You have given us a special gift, the kind of love that lights Christmas in the heart. May we also give you a special gift?" From the corner of the room she drew out the two small boxes of fruit gelatin and handed them to the young men. Then all eyes were moist. All knew the true meaning of giving, and none would ever forget that at Christmas, the greatest gift of all was given.
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