Christmas at the gas station

[Sassy]

A friend sent this to me today... 

Christmas At The Gas Station

    The 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. It was just another day to him. He didn't
    hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate.

    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, Old George as he was
    known by his customers, told the man to come and sit
    by the 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 said.

    He 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
    inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his
    old truck, and went back outside.

    He walked around the building, 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. He 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 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 his 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, anyway.

    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,
             "Please 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.

    He 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 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 a 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. "Bein' 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 cop asked.
    "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 George 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 gettin' 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. 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."

            ~written by Chief Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes~

[peternap]

 

[Sonoran]

Gave me chills.

[Sassy]

Glenn says "way too corny"    but I knew he'd say that before I even posted the story...  

[Sassy]

Thanks Sonoran - I'd just posted my reply about the same time you did 

[glenn kangiser]

Seems I'm too predictable...

[Jens]

Almost couldn't finish reading it to my family through the tears.  I'm just an old softy.  We often don't realize how the little acts of kindness effect others, sometimes changing them for the rest of their lives.  We also don't see God as often as we should, because we blind ourselves to his presence.  Thank you very much for sharing this, Sassy.

[Flutterby]

What a wonderful example of how we can all celebrate Christmas (or celebrate Christ), and that we don't need a tree, presents, egg nog, etc. All we need is the spirit of God in our hearts . . . on Christmas and everyday of the year! Thank you for sharing this with us, Sassy.

[glenn kangiser]

Flutterby, you and Sassy have Whitlock and I... 

What could be a more perfect gift....

[Whitlock]

I was going to post something. But out of fear of miss spelling it I deleted it so I won't get kicked off of the forum

[glenn kangiser]

I only pick on Homey for spelling mistakes, because she was an English Teacher and should know better, and her grammatical errors, and saying y'all....

[Whitlock]

I only pick on Homey for spelling mistakes, because she was an English Teacher and should know better, and her grammatical errors, and saying y'all....

Ya right!!!!! What about the loin lion thing?

[desdawg]

Someone will make a movie out of that and it will be on the Hallmark Channel.

[glenn kangiser]

I'm Sorry, Whitlock.... It's just that I have never seen anybody stick their head in the loins mouth before.... kinda threw me there for a second... 

[Whitlock]

I'm Sorry, Whitlock.... It's just that I have never seen anybody stick their head in the loins mouth before.... kinda threw me there for a second... 

It's O.K Glenn.

If you hang with me long enough you will see a whole new world that you never knew was there.

[glenn kangiser]

  I wonder but I think I may be afraid to look....

Yeah, right....