The Shepherd

     Last year, I wrote a short story for Christmas.  My family loved it, and the post had a few thousand hits, so I thought I'd make it a tradition.  I wrote this today, and will read it to my family tomorrow.  It's not edited, but her you go.  I hope you enjoy it.

The Shepherd Who Wouldn’t Leave His Flock

There are two types of shepherds in the world.  One has a flock of sheep, small or large, which are his.  He owns them.  He raises them and watches over them as they graze.  He sheers them, sells their wool, and benefits fully from the sweat of his brow.  The second type of shepherd helps the first type.  He watches other people’s sheep.  No one can look after their sheep every second of every day and night, so other shepherds are recruited to fill in. 

Sadly, this second type of shepherd most often is hired by wealthy men who are not shepherds, at all.  In fact, most of these men have never even laid eyes on their flocks.  All they care about is the money that the wool and meat will fetch at the market.  These men can be cruel and unforgiving.  Because they know nothing of what it means to be a shepherd, they often ask for the impossible.  The second type of shepherd would rather work for the first type, but a shepherd is the humblest of professions, and a man without money to buy his own flock must take work where he can find it.  Thus it was with John.

John was born the son of a shepherd.  His father had taken John with him as he watched over the master’s sheep, and taught John everything there was to know about shepherding.  His father had a problem with strong drink, and most of their meager wages went towards feeding that insatiable thirst.  John’s mother had died in childbirth, and most people said that John’s father drank to forget his pain and loneliness. 

As a young boy, John would often find himself alone, at home, way past suppertime.  There was a kind couple down the path a way who would take him in on those nights.  The woman would click her tongue when she saw John walking down the path towards their humble home, and ask, “Your father’s out drinking again, is he?”  John would just nod, and she’d say, “Well, come in and get yourself a bowl.  I’ve made too much soup as it is.  You can just help us eat it so it doesn’t go to waste.”  John couldn’t remember how the relationship had begun.  For as long as he could remember he’d walked down that path to the neighbors to eat supper when his father didn’t return home at night.

Those were actually the good memories he had from his childhood.  As an adult, he knew just how angelic that old couple was to take in the hungry, motherless son of a poor shepherd who drank too much.  He was certain that the woman began making extra soup every night just on the chance that he would show up at their door.  John made it a habit to pray for the couple’s souls every night in his private prayers.  The couple had long ago passed away, as had Johns father.  The latter having drunk himself to a grave long before his time.  John was left alone in the world with nothing to his name but the knowledge of shepherding his father had passed down.

At first, life was very hard.  Most young men had letters of introduction, or at the very least, their parents took them to an employer to work out terms of employment.  John had no recommendation.  The master his father had worked for had thought that John would turn out to be a drunkard like his father, and had refused to employ him. 

For months, John looked for work as a shepherd.  In the end, he had resorted to begging for his meals.  Begging had almost become his permanent profession until one day he overheard some men speaking about needing a few shepherds for a new landlord who had just bought a large track of land outside of town.  The man was wealthy and lived in another city, but wanted to try his hand in the wool business.  The herd was being shepherded to the lush hills outside of town as the men spoke, and they were in dire need of shepherds.  Apparently, they had wasted the time allotted to them to find shepherds, and now they had less than a day to hire men to do the job.

Both men were dubious when John had offered his services.  By that point, his clothes had become rags, and he was as dirty as the road he was standing on.  Luckily, the men were desperate enough to hire him.  The terms were not fair for a man as well versed at shepherding as John was, but they were generous for a man who looked as desperate as he looked.

John remembered the first meal he was able to buy for himself.  He didn’t think food could ever taste so good.  He worked for four years for the master, and never once met the man.  That was fine by John.  He’d lived most of his life alone.  The company of the sheep was enough.  The flock was large by anyone’s standards.  John worked in tandem with five other shepherds.  There were always two on duty, and the six would rotate shifts.  He slept on the master’s land when he wasn’t working, and spent as little money as he could, saving the rest to buy a place and maybe even a flock of his own someday.

Life was going well until a fateful night robbed John of what little he had left.  One of the many occupational hazards of a shepherd is thieves.  John was watching the sheep when ten horsemen came galloping over the hills on the other side of the massive flock.  The sheep panicked and started to stampede towards John.  Annoyed, John did his best to contain the flock.  Isaac, the other shepherd on duty, was on the side of the approaching horseman.  He rose to meet the horseman, and ask them to ride around so as to not frighten the flock.  In a flash, metal cleared the scabbard of the closest horseman, and he cut down Isaac without a word. 

John’s mood quickly switched from annoyed to panic.  He turned to run, but remembered his life of poverty, and decided it would be better to stay and fight than return to that life.  That decision would forever change his life.  The men didn’t kill John.  They decided, instead, to make sport of him.  He lost a hand and a leg.

The master was so angry with the shepherds for losing his flock that he fired them all.  John had to use all the money he had saved to pay the physician who saved his life.  He found himself once again with no money, no job, and now he was a cripple.  On the bright side, he thought that maybe now he would make a better beggar.

The life of a beggar was not to be, though, as one of the other shepherds had saved enough money to buy a small flock of his own.  The man’s name was Jacob, and he was the only friend John had.  Jacob knew that John was a good shepherd, and invited him to move with him to his birth town of Bethlehem to help watch his small flock.

At first, John didn’t want to take the job.  He was afraid of letting Jacob down.  He didn’t know how much help he could be, missing a leg and a hand, but he decided he’d better not let the opportunity pass.  Jacob bought the sheep in the city Be-er Sheva, and the two herded the small flock the fifty miles to Bethlehem.  It was always better to move sheep far from where they were raised so that none would return to their old home.  The trip served to prove John could still be a shepherd. 

Walking with a crutch was a horrible thing, so John used his staff instead.  He had lost his left hand and right leg.  He tried several different ways of walking, but found that he was able to counter balance his weight as he used the staff as a surrogate leg.  The fifty mile trek to their new home in Bethlehem gave him plenty of practice, but he still grew tired easily, and could not walk nearly as fast as Jacob.  Jacob was sympathetic of his plight, and slowed the flock to match John’s pace.  The journey took twice as long as it should have, but at long last they made it to Bethlehem.

John had never been so far from home.  Home.  That was a funny concept.  John had never felt at home anywhere.  He had a roof over his head as a child, but it wasn’t a home.  He had no roof as an adult, and it wasn’t a home.  He didn’t know what home was.  He was comfortable around Jacob.  But John worried what would happen when Jacob found a woman and decided to marry.  John had no more dreams of saving money to buy his own flock, let alone a plot of land to build a house.  He had worked four years for a rich master, and had barely saved half the money it would take to do such grandiose things.  Working for Jacob would mean survival.  John would be indebted to the man just for his meals.  He knew that the small flock would scarcely fetch enough to feed the two, so John would be working for his meals only.  No, he would never know what home was.

Bethlehem was not like Be-er Sheva.  The local magistrate, King Herod, was a controlling man.  He wouldn’t let shepherds own land, but he recognized the importance of their work so he allowed all the shepherds to share the grazing lands around the city.  John couldn’t imagine such an arrangement.  Shepherds in Be-er Sheva fought over grazing lands, and they owned the land.  He couldn’t imagine what kind of disputes would arise when nobody owned the land.  Jacob assured him that the shepherds were quite civil, but John had a hard time believing it.

His first day of work proved to be difficult.  Walking in a straight line towards a city was one thing.  Keeping track of sheep, and trying to coral them was another.  He had to track down two lost sheep on his first day; one had fallen in a gully, John had no idea how he would get it out without falling in, himself.  Luckily, Jacob was right about the other shepherds.  One of the other men saw his predicament, and rushed to help.  In fact, all of the other shepherds were nice.  The sheep intermingled, and the shepherds knew their sheep well, and the sheep knew them.  When it was time to move a flock, each shepherd had his own call, and all of his sheep would follow him to their new grazing spot.  John was a bit embarrassed that he couldn’t tell his sheep from the others, but the other shepherds were kind, and helped sort them out when they intermingled.  When the sheep were grazing, the shepherds often gathered to talk and share gossip.  John made many friends among the shepherds.  They all held him in high regard for being willing to lay down his life to protect his flock.  He felt a sense of brotherhood he’d never felt before.

Caesar Augustas declared that a census be taken every fourteen years, and the year John and Jacob came to Bethlehem happened to fall on a census year.  The Jewish custom was for everyone to return to their lands of birth to have this census taken, so that families could be counted together.  John had no family, so he saw no need to return to Be-er Sheva.  He’d been living in Bethlehem for a few months now, and counted it as much of a home as any he’d lived in.  The town was flooded with new-comers, which meant plenty of gossip to be shared by the shepherds.  It was a good time for John and his new-found brotherhood.

John thought that it might be fun to go into town and see if he could pick up any tales of faraway lands.  He worked the night watch, so his day was free.  It took him the better part of the morning to get into town.  As he was hobbling through the streets on his one good leg, using his shepherd’s staff as a surrogate leg, a wagon too wide for the small street, and traveling too fast, barreled down on the poor shepherd.  John did his best to get out of the way, but the wagon wheel’s hub clipped his good hip, knocking him to the ground, and bruising his hip deeply.  John could barely stand afterward.  The wagon’s driver didn’t even turn to see if he was okay.  A few of the town’s people helped him to his feet, but once standing, he was left to fend for himself. 

The journey back to the grazing fields was a few miles away, and Johns hip was throbbing with pain before he even made it out of the city.  By the time he made it back to the flock, his shift had long since started.  Jacob was annoyed, but when he saw how bad John was injured, his fury quickly changed to concern.  All of the shepherds on the hill that night gathered around John as Jacob inspected his hip.

As the men were fussing over John, the night suddenly became bright.  The shepherds looked around in awe.  It was long past sunset, but the sky was as bright as day.  They looked up and saw the source of the light.  John could just make out the silhouette of a man, but it was like trying to look at the sun.  He was suddenly overwhelmed with fear.  What was happening?  He turned away from the man at the center of the light, feeling insignificant and unworthy to be around such a person.

The man at the center of the light spoke, “Fear not.”

John was definitely afraid, but the voice of the man soothed him to the very core.  When he looked upon the man again, the light did not burn his eyes as much.  The man radiated like the sun, but the light was more than just light.  The light was warm, and soothing.  It was a feeling John had never felt before.  If he had to guess, he would say that this was what love felt like.

“I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people,” the man said.  John knew, even with his limited knowledge of the gospel that this must be a messenger of the lord.  An angel of God!  “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”

A Savior!  John had gone to Hebrew school when he was young, but he never finished.  His father’s fading health meant more work for John, so he took to filling in for his father instead of going to school.  He knew that a Savior was to be born to free His people, but he couldn’t remember much more about this Savior.

As John was contemplating the wondrous news from the angel, the sky was suddenly filled with them.  They were singing!  At first John was so overwhelmed by the beauty of the sound of thousands of angelic voices that he couldn’t comprehend the words.

As the angelic choir sang their chorus for the third time, John heard the words, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

The lights in the heavens slowly dimmed and the stars were shining once again on the lowliest of all men, the shepherds of the fields.  John noticed a new star shining brighter than the rest.  The star seemed to be stationed directly above Bethlehem, like a beacon shinning the way to this Savior child.

The shepherds were quick to agree that they must leave at once to see this marvelous babe.  John attempted to stand, but his injured hip prevented him from doing so.  His stomach sank to his knees as he realized he could not make the journey back to the city.  The other shepherds stopped and tried to help him to his feet, but John stopped them and said, “You go.  I’ll never be able to make the trip with this injury.  Besides, someone has to stay and watch the sheep.” 

Reluctantly, the shepherds all agreed to let John stay and tend to their flocks.  Jacob turned one last time and gave John a sad smile, and then disappeared into the night.  As he vanished into the night, John felt a warm tear scroll down his face.  He wasn’t mad at his predicament, just sad that he would miss chance to see this Savior child for himself.

Several months passed since that fateful night, almost two years, in fact.  John had tried to go to see the babe days later when he could walk again, but the young couple had left the manger and were nowhere to be found.  His brother-shepherds had told him all about the child.  They were in reverenced awe as they looked upon the babe.  His mother was more beautiful than any of them could describe, and they said she was a virgin; that the child was the son of God, himself.  John was so happy that his new friends had had the opportunity to see the babe.  He supposed he’d had a part in that by watching their flocks so that they could go.  He wasn’t jealous of them, but he was sad he’d missed the opportunity.

As he was thinking about the babe one morning on his hill, a young couple came hastily from the city, carrying a baby.  They were running from something, and the fear was painted painfully upon their faces.

“What’s going on,” John asked.

“The King’s gone crazy,” the man said.

“He’s killing all the children under the age of two,” the woman added, with tears streaming down her face.

John couldn’t believe that King Harod would do such a thing, but at the same time, he couldn’t doubt the fear the young couple were displaying.  John showed the young couple the safest way out of the land, where no guards would be posted to stop them, and then he hurried back to the city.

When he arrived in the city, there were guards everywhere.  They were bursting into people’s houses, and to John’s horror, they were, in fact, killing all of the babies.  John saw several young mothers trying to flee with their children.  He was able to gather a few, and smuggle them out of the city and out of the land through the fields he knew so well.

 When John returned again to the city, the sun had long ago set.  He desperately went looking for more families to save.  The guards had made quick work of the gruesome task, and it was obvious that no other women would be running with small precious bundles in their arms.

John, felt sick.  He could only save half a dozen little ones.  He thought of the hundreds of other broken families left to morn their loss.  Such promising futures destroyed in moments.  He wondered if the Savior child was among those slain babes.  As he hobbled back to his hill, he heard a cry from the bushes.  John rushed over to find a young mother trying desperately to hush her young baby.  She looked at him with sheer terror in her eyes.

“I’m here to help you,” John said, as he slowly approached the young mother.  “There are ways out of the land where the guards will not be looking for you.”

The mother looked like she wanted to jump into his arms for comfort, and at the same time, like she wanted to run for her life.  He had never seen such raw terror in someone’s eyes before.

“I will help you escape this land.  I’m a shepherd.  I know the area,” John reassured her.  “Follow me, I’ll show you the way.”

The mother cried as relief washed over her face.  “Thank you! Bless you! Thank you! Thank you,” she uttered over and over.

John rushed as fast as his crippled body would carry him across the fields with the young mother in tow.  When they had reached the edge of the lands controlled by Harod, John heard the approaching hooves of horses.

“Oh no,” he exclaimed.  “They’re coming this way.”

The young mother shrieked in terror as she started to run.  John yelled after her, “There’s a gully ahead, if you can make it there, jump in and turn left.  The soldiers shouldn’t be able to find you.  I’ll try to slow them down.”

He didn’t know if the woman heard him or not, but he hoped that even if she didn’t, he could stall the soldiers long enough to allow her to disappear.  The sun was beginning to rise, and the soldiers would have to look into it to find her.  It would make the task that much more onerous.

John was exhausted.  He couldn’t walk anymore.  He’d been awake all night for his watch, then all day and half the next night helping the first group of young families escape, and the rest of the night running with the last young mother.  His knee was quivering under his weight, and his good arm could scarcely grip his shepherd’s staff.

When he looked up, six armed soldiers had formed a semi-circle in front of him with their horses.  “What can I do for you gentleman,” John asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

“That’s the man,” one of the soldiers said, pointing at John with his spear.  “He’s the one I saw trying to hide young babies.”

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“No use lying, shepherd.  There aren’t many one legged, one hand shepherds around,” the captain of the guards said.  “Where are the babies?”

“I assure you, captain, I have no babies.  No woman would want a crippled shepherd for a husband,” John said.

The captain had his sword out.  Before John could think to respond he saw the sword rushing towards his head.  John scrunched his eyes shut and braced for impact.

He never felt the impact.  He tentatively opened one eye, and then the other.  It was much brighter outside.  So bright he couldn’t see very well.  There was a man in front of him, but John’s eyes were still trying to adjust to the bright light.

“This is the man.  The shepherd who wouldn’t leave his flock,” the man said.

John was feeling warm.  He remembered the feeling.  It was the same feeling he’d felt when the angel had visited them in the field.  When he looked at the man again, he recognized him as the same angel who announced The Savior’s birth.

Another voice, deep and soothing, said, “Come here, son.”

John looked over to see a man sitting upon a throne.  He was standing before the man before he even thought to walk over to him.

“My son,” the man said.

“Who are you,” John asked.  “Where am I?  What happened to the soldiers?  What happened to the mother and her baby?”

“The mother is fine.  You saved her and her child.  You saved many children, my son,” the man on the throne said.

“Dad? Is that you,” John asked.  Looking at the man was hard.  He shone brighter than the angel. 

The man laughed.  “I am your father, but not the man who raised you on earth.”

“What happened…”  John looked down and saw that he had his hand back.  He looked at his leg, and it was back in place, good as new.  John just stared at his leg, and then at his hand.

“You have saved my children.  You were a good shepherd; a shepherd who wouldn’t leave my flock to the wolves, and so you are with me again.”

“With you…”

With that, God stood and embraced John.  “Welcome home, son.”

John felt his father’s embraced, and for the first time he was home.

The Mistletoe Promise

     The Mistletoe Promise by Richard Paul Evans, is a modern-day Cinderella story with a twist you haven't seen before.

     I've read The Christmas Box, so I figured I would like this one when my sister-in-law gave it to us for Christmas, and I was right.  I sat down and read it in a few hours (after my 12 y/o daughter read it and I was finally able to get my hands on it.  And I figured it would be a great book to review right before Christmas.

     Elise (protagonist) has a sad, pain-riddled past and lives alone with her grief years after her husband left her.  Her horrible past leads her to believe she deserves the misery she wallows in daily.  Sadly, I know many people like this.  Many days I'm like this.  So the story really resonated with me.

     One day, while eating alone in the food court by her office, a handsome lawyer approaches her with a strange idea; he'd noticed her eating alone for the past several weeks, and since he was also alone, and hated facing the holidays with their many social gatherings alone, he proposed that the two should become a couple just for the holidays.  Being a lawyer.  He comes up with a contract that would protect them both, ensure the platonic nature of their relationship, and swear them both to secrecy so as to avoid any embarrassment should the other tell friends and family of the arrangement.

     I know what you're thinking, "Creepy".  At least that's what I thought as I read the first few chapters, but press on readers.  It's Richard Paul Evans not E. L. James.  This is not smut.  It's a really sweet story.

     Elise agrees to the contract figuring that she had nothing else to lose, and the budding romance begins.  At least it appears that way to friends and family.

     Elise's past catches up to her, and strangely enough, so does Nicholas's (the handsome lawyer), and self-inflicted torment turns to atonement when they face the demons of their pasts.

     We live in an imperfect world with imperfect people.  We all mess up from time to time.  Some people's mistakes are horrific in the sight of others, some are incomprehensible, but a penitent soul will afflict itself far more than any justice system.  This is a book about forgiveness.  Mostly, we need to be able to forgive ourselves.

I give The Mistletoe Promise

A quick short story

     I'm going to try something new here.  I'm going to write a very short story about Christmas.  This is made up on the spot, not edited, and written in the blog post tool for this blog; so no help from editing programs.  I hope it turns out okay.

Enjoy.

The Christmas Wish

     Christmas had come again.  The stores had rushed its coming all the sooner this year.  It seemed that every year the Christmas music started playing earlier on the radio.  The toys, candies, decorations, and wrapping papers flooded the shelves of every store earlier.  The Black Friday sales started earlier.  The town's decorations went up earlier.  Even the weather seemed to want to hurry the holiday along.  Everyone wanted the Christmas season to begin. Everyone except Todd Hacken.

     Todd use to love Christmas.  He was always the first to awake on Christmas morning as a boy.  He grew up in a family of eight.  His mother and father would pile Todd, his two brothers, and three sisters all into his oldest sisters room on Christmas eve.  The sleepover was a rare treat in-and-of itself, but the siblings were all the more giddy with the anticipation of the wonders Christmas day had to offer.  Todd remembered staying awake with his brothers and sisters as long as they could, trying to hear Santa or his reindeer.  He remembered holding his eyes open with his hands so that he wouldn't fall asleep.  Of course, sleep always came, and in a blink it would be Christmas morning.  His parents would make them wait until seven A.M. to wake them up.  Most Christmases Todd was up at five.  When the time finally arrived to wake mom and dad up, Todd and all of his siblings would pour out into the hallway.  They'd fling open their parents door, and jump excitedly onto their bed.  He could scarcely remember a single gift he'd gotten on any Christmas morning, but he remembered the feeling of excitement.

     As much fun as Christmas morning was, Todd actually loved Christmas Eve even more.  Christmas Eve morning, Todd's mom would wake up early and begin baking goodies for the neighbors.  She'd let Todd and his siblings help, but the baking took most of the day, and the youngsters often tired or bored of the work.  Todd's mom never did, though.  She'd cook all morning and late into the afternoon.  When the goodies were all done, Todd and his siblings would help plate and wrap them, and then deliver them to all the neighbors.  Todd always liked that best.  It was fun to give something you'd helped make to someone you liked.

     Christmas Eve was magical.  In the neighborhood where Todd grew up, the neighbors would block off the street, put up fifty-gallon drums with logs burning inside to keep the neighbors warm, everyone would bring a plate of goodies or hot chocolate, and then the whole neighborhood would sing Christmas carols late into the night.  There was even a Jewish family that would come and teach some of their songs to the group.  It was a magical, fun-filled night.

     When the Caroling was over, Todd and his family would return home, most nearly frozen, and warm themselves by the fire.  They always performed he manger scene while Todd's dad read aloud from the scriptures the account of the first Christmas.  Todd always felt silly playing Joseph, or a wiseman, or shepherd, but his mom would insist, and Todd obliged, even into adulthood after he'd had kids of his own.  After the manger re-enactment, Todd's parents would let them watch a Christmas show, usually a claymation movie about Santa or Rudolf, and then it was off to bed for the kids.

     Todd loved those childhood memories.  He'd tried to keep up the traditions with his own family when he married.  His wife, Jill, had her own traditions, and the neighborhoods they lived in during their early years of marriage didn't seem to have an interest in getting together for caroling Christmas Eve, but Todd and Jill always baked goodies for the neighbors.  When they had their three children, and when the children were old enough, they would put on their own little production of the manger scene.  To Todd, it never seemed as good as the Christmases from his youth, but he supposed that the holiday lost some of its magic as you became an adult.

     The magic had all stopped last Christmas.

     Christmas Eve day had started the same as always.  Todd woke up early and began baking goodies.  The kids woke one by one, and finally Jill woke.  Everyone took turns helping Todd in the kitchen until the goodies were done.  It was snowing fiercely outside, and the heat from the oven made the house warm and snug.  When the goodies were all done, Todd, Jill, and the kids bundled up in their snow clothes and delivered the plates.  Todd told Jill he was worried about driving in the snow, but she insisted on keeping up her family tradition to go to her grandparents house to exchange gifts with her cousins.  Todd didn't want to argue.  Now he wished he did.

     The drive to Jill's grandparents house was slow and scary.  The roads were slick, and visibility was poor.  About half-way there, a snow plow hit a patch of black ice.  The driver over corrected and the plow slid into Todd's lane.  Todd hit the brakes, but the wheels became ice skates, and the two vehicles collided.  Todd wasn't going fast, and neither was the plow, but the vehicle was so large that it crushed the passenger's side of the car completely.  Todd lost his wife and two of his children that night.  His youngest daughter, Samantha, lived, but she had sustained permanent damage to her right arm and leg.  Todd, to his never ending remorse, walked away from the accident with little more than scratches and bruises.  His world had ended that day.

     It was a year later, the pain of loss was all the sharper with the holiday approaching.  Samantha was only ten, but she asked that they not celebrate Christmas that year.  At first Todd had insisted that they needed to celebrate the holiday for Samantha's sake, but when he saw the heartache burning so profoundly in her young eyes as they pulled out the decorations, he conceded.  He knew how she felt.  He didn't want to celebrate on the anniversary of the worst day of his life, either.  Samantha had thrown her arms around his neck when he said they didn't need to celebrate the holiday this year, and the two sobbed for almost an hour.  When they were done, Todd put the decorations away, and took his young daughter out for ice cream to take her mind off of the hurt.

     He didn't know if he should get her presents for Christmas.  Jill had always insisted on hitting all of the Black Friday sales.  They would set up the Christmas tree and all the decorations as soon as Thanksgiving dinner was cleaned up.  Once the decorations were up they would leave the oldest in charge and hit all of the stores until early the next day.

      Jill always made Christmas work, no matter how tight the budget was.  Those Black Friday sales had saved more than one Christmas.  There was only one Christmas, right after they had their first child, when they couldn't make ends meet.  Todd had just lost his job due to the poor economy, and there simply wasn't enough money.  They didn't know what to do.  Family and friends pulled together, and Christmas happened as if by some sort of miracle.  From that Christmas on, Jill had made it a point to have Christmas saved for by July, and shopping done by the end of November.  She also insisted on helping at least one family every year, even if that meant giving up some of their own Christmas to do it.

     Christmas shopping was Jill's thing.  Todd didn't even know how to start.

     Samantha's breakdown had happened on Thanksgiving night when Todd tried to pull out the Christmas decorations.  He didn't go shopping that night.  He'd missed the sales.  He hadn't budgeted since July, either, like Jill always did.  They had plenty of money from the life insurance claim, along with the generous sum the plowing company had paid to avoid a law suit, but spending the money always made Todd feel queasy.

     Five days before Christmas, Todd finally asked Samantha if she wanted presents this year.  She said that she'd rather use her presents to help a family in need, so Todd took her to shopping for a family in need.  Samantha still had to use a crutch to walk, even though a year had passed since the accident.  The doctors said that she needed to push herself harder, but Todd never made her.  The shopping trip took a lot out of the ten-year old, and she went to bed early that night.  The next day the two wrapped the presents and delivered them to the woman in charge of the Secret Santa program in their neighborhood.  Samantha never showed a hint of happiness through the experience.  She was always the most giving of Todd's children, and it broke his heart to see her so broken inside.  Todd didn't know if they could ever recover from such a loss as they had experienced.

     Now it was Christmas Eve morning.  Todd lay in bed wondering what he would do.  Should he get up and start making goodies for the neighbors?  Would it bring back too many bad memories for Samantha?  Should he pretend it was not Christmas Eve at all?  He just didn't know how to handle the situation.  If it was just him, he'd forget the holiday altogether, but Christmas was for kids.  Todd didn't want Samantha to lose any more of her childhood.

     Eventually, he decided it wasn't his decision to make.  He got up and went into Samantha's room.

     "Sam," he called through the doorway.  The room was mostly dark.  Pale light crept in around the drawn blinds.  It was still early morning.

     "Sam, do you want to make goodies, or should we just have a jammies day today?"

     There was still no answer.  Samantha lay still in her bed.  Todd didn't know what to do.  He wanted to let her just sleep if that was how she wanted to handle today, but something was gnawing at his gut. Call it father's intuition, but he knew he just had to check on her.  Quietly he tip-toed over to his daughter's bed to see if she was awake.  When he got close, he could tell that something was wrong.  Sam wasn't moving at all.  He pulled the blankets away from her face and saw that her lips were blue, and her face what ashen.

     "No!"

     He shook Sam a few times, and then hastily picked her up.  She was still warm, but her skin felt clammy.  He rushed her to his own room and dumped her limp body onto his bed.  He grabbed his cell phone from his night stand and dialed 911.

----------

     After five hours of waiting in the Emergency room waiting area, the doctor came out to speak with Todd.  Todd, sitting with his head in his hands, jumped up the minute the doors opened.  He rushed to the doctor, almost before he could get through the doors.

     "How is she?  What happened?  Is she going to be okay?"

     The doctor held his hand up, as if to hold back Todd's barrage of questions.  "Mr. Hacken... Mr. Hacken, please." 

     Todd stopped his questions and took a step back.  "Is my little girl going to be okay?"

     The doctor had a grim look on his face.  "Mr. Hacken, is there any reason your daughter would want to hurt herself?"

     "Hurt herself?  Why would..."  It all suddenly fell into place.  Samantha had been more than simply down.  She had been depressed.  Her eyes were dead.  The pain was too much for her.  "Oh, no," Todd said, as tears began to fill his eyes.

     "We had to pump her stomach, but we didn't get as much as we would have liked.  Most of the pain medication had already been absorbed into her body.  The best we can do now is try to flush the medication out.  We've got her on a respirator, but she is in a light coma.  Even if she does wake up, she'll likely have liver damage, maybe even kidney failure."

     The doctor was lecturing, as if Todd had done something wrong.  Todd wanted to yell at the man, but he didn't have it in him at that moment.  Instead, he told him about the accident, and how Samantha had lost her mother and siblings.  He told the doctor how hard the season was on her this year. How she didn't want to celebrate Christmas.  How she didn't want presents.  He didn't know it was this bad, though.

     "Can I see her now?"

     "She unresponsive, but she's past the critical phase," the doctor replied.  His tone had softened a bit.  "They are moving her to her own room.  You can meet her there."

     Todd shook the doctor's hand, and went to the room the nurse told him his daughter was being moved to.  She hadn't arrived yet, but in short order, a gurney bearing his innocent little girl came rolling down the hall.  Todd could hardly see Samantha's face.  There were tubes coming out of her nose and mouth.  She was hooked to IV bags.  She looked too small to be laying in a hospital bed with that much equipment hooked to her.

     After the nurses got her settled, they checked little Sammie's vitals again, and then left Todd to be alone with his unconscious daughter.  Todd broke down into tears as he watched, helpless.  His little girl lay unconscious in the hospital bed.  If it weren't for the machines, she wouldn't even be alive at this point.  

     The day wore on, and there was no change in Samantha.  Family came and left.  A few neighbors stopped by.  Todd's Bishop stopped by with a few of the men from his church, and they gave Samantha a blessing.  Todd thanked them, but didn't have much else to say.  The men tried to reassure him that things would be okay.  Todd could only nod.  He didn't believe in miracles anymore.  He'd prayed himself sick over the bodies of his wife and children, and they had been taken from him just the same.

     The men all left, but just before the Bishop walked out the door, he stopped and turned to Todd.  "Todd, I don't know what God's plan is for you.  I couldn't even begin to imagine the pain you've suffered this last year.  I look up to you so much for your strength."  He got a pensive look and added, "You must be a powerful warrior in God's army for him to have to go to such great lengths to test your strength."  The Bishop placed his hand warmly on Todd's shoulder.  "I just want you to know that I'm here to help you if you need me.  Anything.  Don't hesitate to ask."  

     Todd nodded, not even able to bring himself to even look the man in the eye.

     The Bishop turned to leave again, but stopped once more, and turned back.  "Todd, Jesus died and suffered for our sins, but he also suffered for our pain.  I don't know what you're going through, but he does.  If it gets to be too much for you, let him take some of the load.  He can handle it."

     Todd nodded again, and the Bishop left.

     The night wore on, and still no change in Samantha.  Todd felt numb.  He was beyond feeling simple grief.  It was as if he were dead inside.  How could he lose another child?  How could he go on alone.  He'd done everything he was supposed to do.  He always went to church.  He never went through a rebellious phase.  He never drank.  He never smoked.  He never even cursed.  He'd done everything God had ever asked him to do.  He married the love of his life.  He loved and cared for her.  He had done his best to love and raise his three children.  Why was all of this happening to him?

     "Why, God?  Why?"

     Todd began to cry again.  He sunk down off of the chair, and onto his knees.  His tears turned into racking sobs.  He took little Sammie's hand in both of his.  "Why God?  Haven't I suffered enough?  I'm not Job.  I'm not strong enough lose everyone I love.  I don't even know how to live without Jill, and Molly, and Tim.  How can you take my daughter now?  How can you take my last little girl from me?"

     Todd gave way to his tears.  He sobbed on his knees holding his little girl's hand until he fell asleep.

----------

     When Todd opened his eyes he was not on his knees.  He was laying in a soft bed.  It was light everywhere.  There seemed to be no source for the light, instead it seemed to radiate out from everything around him.  Todd sat up, abruptly, and looked around for Samantha.  She wasn't there.  He looked around again, nothing was there.  The bed he'd been laying on wasn't there.  It was all just light.  The light didn't hurt his eyes, but it was brighter than anything he'd ever seen.

     "Sam," he yelled.

     "Sam's okay, Todd."

     Todd almost jumped out of his shoes when he heard the voice.  There was nobody by him.  The voice was warm and inviting.  It sounded like the man was standing right by Todd's left shoulder, but there was nobody there, only light.

     "How do you know she's okay?  Did she wake up?  Is the IV working?"

     "She's resting, Todd."

     Todd looked around again.  Nobody was there.  He took a step in the direction of the voice.  "Where did you take her.  I need to be by her in case she wakes up.  She needs me."

     "She needs you Todd, and you need her."

     "Where is she?"

     Todd felt a warm hand on his shoulder.  He turned to see who it belonged to, but all he could see was light.  "She is well Todd.  It is you who I am worried about."

     "Me?  Why me?  I'm fine.  Nothing is wrong with me.  She's sick.  She needs my help."

     "She does need your help Todd.  You are her father.  I sent her to you because I knew she would need your help.  She needs guidance only you can give her.  She needs the love only you can give her.  She is your daughter, as much as she is Mine.  She needs you like any child needs their father.  And you need your Father right now."

     "Dad?"

     "Yes, son."

     "But you just left with mom.  Why is it so bright?  Why can't I see you?"

     "Todd, what have you learned about the family, in church?"

     Todd looked around in the brightness all around him.  The voice didn't sound like his father's voice.  "What do you mean, what have I learned?"

     "I mean, do you believe you will be with your family again after you die?"

     "Of course.  You've always taught me that.  Even before I started primary you've told me about how the family can be together forever."

     "And do you truly believe that?"

     Todd stopped looking around.  He suddenly knew this wasn't his father, James Hacken, this was his eternal Father, his Heavenly Father.  He was suddenly overcome with a feeling of unworthiness.  He was embarrassed that he didn't know immediately.  He started worrying about all of the sins he'd committed in his life.

     "Am I dead," Todd asked, after a long time wallowing in self-doubt.

     The voice laughed.  "No, Todd, you're not dead.  You needed me, so here I am."

     Todd began to cry again.  "Why?  Why would you take time to come to me?  I'm not important.  I'm not a prophet."

     "You are my son.  You are important to me."

     "But why?  I've never done anything special in my entire life."

     "Everything in your life is special to me.  Do you have a favorite child?"

     "No,"

     "Neither do I.  Would you ignore one of your children if they truly needed your help?"

     Todd knew he wouldn't.  If he could have his other two children back, he'd never yell at them again.  He'd never let a T.V. show get in the way again.  He'd take off work to go and see their plays, watch their games, and performances.  He'd do everything he could to be with them as much as possible. 

     

     "No," he finally said, though he didn't think the single word could truly convey how much he meant it.

     "Neither would I."

     "But I've asked for your help before and you ignored me," Todd said.  As the last words left his tongue he wished he could pull them back in.  He didn't want to say such things to his Heavenly Father.

     "I've never ignored you, Todd.  When Tim was riding his bike, and you let go of the seat so that he could ride on his own, were you ignoring him?"

     Todd felt his cheeks flush.  "No, I was trying to help him learn."

     "And when he fell in the bushes and needed stitches, did you let him give up and never try to ride the bike again?"

     "No," Todd said.  He remembered how bad he'd felt that Tim had fallen into the bushes.  Tim was so mad at Todd.  He blamed him for letting go of the bike.  He thought it was Todd's fault that he had to get stitches, and he swore he'd never try to ride his bike again.  The next Saturday, however, Tim was back on his bike, and when Todd let go this time, Tim rode all the way to the end of the circle.  He came running back, threw his arms around Todd, and said, "thank you".

     "You are learning to live, Todd, just like Tim was learning to ride his bike.  You have to fall sometimes.  Sometimes you have to get stitches.  Sometimes I have to let go so that you can learn to do things on your own.  That is why I sent you to earth, after all."

     "Okay, so what am I supposed to be learning from all of this?  What was I supposed to learn from losing my wife?  What was I supposed to learn from losing Tim? From losing Molly?"

     "That is why I asked you if you believe, Todd.  Do you believe that you will be with your family again after you die?"

     Todd started to cry.  "I don't know.  I thought I truly did, but now that they're gone, that's exactly what it feels like - they are just gone."  He cried a little harder.  "I'm so sorry.  I shouldn't be questioning, especially now, after being here with you, but it just feels like they are gone."

     Todd felt warm arms embrace him.  "You're still learning, Todd.  You don't have to know.  You only have to believe.  When Tim was learning to ride his bike, he didn't know how, but he believed you would teach him, and he tried.  The end result was that he learned to ride.  Did he fall along the way?  Yes.  Did he get hurt?  Yes.  Did he feel like you had let him down?  Yes.  Did it take more than one disappointment to gain the ability to ride? Yes.  Life is like that, Todd.  I know things you do not know, so I must allow certain things to happen to you so that you can learn.  Some things I do to test you.  Sometimes I have to let you go so you can ride on your own.  Sometimes you have to get hurt because you fail.  What is important is that you get up and try again.  Remember the things you've learned.  Families are forever.  Believe you will see your family again, and you will.  Will you doubt along the way?  Yes.  Will there be things or people who will try to make you believe otherwise?  Yes.  All that matters is the end result.  Keep believing, keep pushing forward, and the end result will be an eternal family."

     "But what about this world?  Am I supposed to be miserable and alone in this world so that I can be happy in the next?"

     "No, my son.  When you started working as an apprentice Veterinarian, do you remember what you always thought?"

     Todd had to think back a bit to remember, but eventually he did.  "I use to always think that when the apprenticeship was over that life would be better, and I'd be happier."

     "And is that what happened?"

     "No," Todd said sheepishly.  "I had to start a partnership with Bob Hershley, and I was even more miserable than before."

     "And what did you think while you were working in your first new business with Bob?"

     "I use to always think that things would be better when I could open my own practice, alone, without a partner."

     "And what happened when you opened your own practice?"

     "I was even more stressed because I didn't have anyone to help me with the ins and outs of running a business, and I had no time to be with my family, and I was even more miserable."

     "And when did you actually find happiness with your work?"

     Todd didn't know exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the way things just seemed to be better.  He didn't have any more time.  He didn't have more people helping him.  His job didn't get any easier, he just learned to deal with it.  "I guess I started being happy when I stopped waiting for things to change.  I learned to be happy with the way things were."

     "That is right, son.  That is how life is.  So many people are waiting for something, or someone to come in and change everything they don't like, to make them happy.  But, as you've learned, only true happiness comes from within.  There is nothing I can do to make people happy.  Happiness is a state of mind, not a product of circumstance.  That is why I allow so many prayers to go unanswered.  If I gave my children everything they ever wanted, they wouldn't learn to be happy with anything.  Instead, they'd always be waiting for the next thing that would temporarily make them less dissatisfied."

     "But I'm not asking for stuff.  I want my daughter.  I can't lose her.  I'll try to have more faith in the eternal family.  I'll try to have more faith in you.  Please don't take her from me."

     The voice was quiet for a long while.  

     "Todd, how did you feel when you lost Jill and the kids?"

     "I felt terrible!  It was the worst week of my life.  They died one by one.  The doctors did everything they could to save them.  There were so many operations.  We prayed.  I gave blessings.  There was nothing I could do.  They all just died..."  Todd succumbed to his tears.

     "Todd, I lose children by the thousands every day.  What if I told you that I feel that same pain and anguish you felt when you lost your wife and children every time someone falls away from my gospel?  What if I were to tell you that I have to watch helpless as they use the very gift they fought so hard for, the freedom of choice, to choose wrong?  What if I were to tell you that it breaks my heart every time they make a mistake?  So few are honestly trying to do what I have told them to do.  So few will be able to come back to me.  What if I were to tell you that your suffering is a preparation for you to become like me?  You need to learn to lose because you will lose many of your own children when you are like me.  You cannot force them to be good because that would be like keeping the training wheels on Tim's bike forever.  They would never truly learn to ride."

     Todd felt a lump in his throat.  He didn't know how to respond to such a notion.  It had never crossed his mind before.

     "Todd, you are on the edge.  You are faced with a choice.  Do you hate me for your loss, and fall away from my gospel, taking your daughter with you and the countless posterity she will have, or do you learn to be happy with what you have, and have faith in what I've taught you from birth?  You asked me for help, and that is why I'm here.  You feel like you are losing your daughter.  I feel like I am losing you, Todd.  You begged me not to take her from you.  I'm begging you not to take yourself from me."

     Todd felt small and petty.   "What can I do," he asked.  "I try to go to church.  I read the scriptures.  We say prayers.  What more can I do?"

     That warm hand returned to his shoulder.  "Todd, these people say they are mine.  They honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.  I told these exact words to Isaiah and again to Matthew, and they are still true.  I know your heart, Todd.  It is not enough to simply show up in church, say a prayer at night, and read the scriptures.  I've felt your heart pull away from me this last year."

     Todd felt the lump in his throat grow.  He knew he'd been just going through the motions over the last year.  He was guilty of falling away from The Lord in his heart.  "What can I do, Father?  I don't know how to fix my heart.  I'm not mad at you.  I'm not even mad.  I just feel dead inside."

     "Tomorrow, the world will celebrate the birth of My Son, Todd.  Do you know why I sent him to earth?"

     Todd nodded.  "To die for our sins."

     "To live for your lives.  Jesus can do more than pay for your sins.  He can heal your heart.  He can replace the pain with happiness, but it's just like with your job as a Veterinarian, you have to learn to find happiness with what you have instead of only seeing what you've lost.  Todd, celebrate His birth tomorrow.

     "Do you remember all of those Christmases you so adored growing up?  What made them special?"

     "I guess it was all of the fun times with my family - all of the traditions."

     "That is right, Todd.  It wasn't the goodies, or presents, or carols, it was the time spent together.  It was the love that you shared.  It was the feeling of family you felt with your parents, siblings, and neighbors.  That is the love Christ brought to the world.  Tomorrow, if you celebrate His life, you will feel that love again.  You will be able to share that feeling of love and family with your daughter.  With that love, her heart can begin to heal.  You can both renew your faith that you will see your family again."

     Todd began to cry again.  This time it was a feeling of peace and relief.

     "And Todd,  teach my daughter, Samantha, to ride.  Teach her the love that my son has paid so dearly for."

     "I will," Todd said.  "I promise."

     The room started to dim.

     "Father!"  Tom yelled in desperation.  "I love you!"

     "I love you too, Todd."

     The room continued to dim until Tom found himself kneeling next to a hospital bed with the pale morning light just beginning to break in through the partially closed blinds.  Todd blinked a few times as he looked around the room.  He felt a small squeeze on his right hand.

     Todd jumped to his feet.  "Sam!"

     His little girl was looking up at him from her hospital bed.  The tubes sticking out of her mouth prevented her from saying anything.

     Todd smiled as the tears ran down both of their cheeks.  "I have something important to tell you..."

     

Pentatonix

     Okay, so Pentatonix is not an indie group, but they are OH SO GOOD!  I have a hard time getting into Christmas music because it is mostly the old, boring stuff, and after listening to it since Halloween (Michelle...) I'm just not in the mood when Christmas rolls around.  So, I love when a group can make the old classics sound new.  Pentatonix is awesome at this.  If anyone is looking for a last min. Christmas gift, this is it!.  Their Christmas CD is only $8 here >> Amazon. Here's just one of their songs.

12 Days of Christmas

     Straight No Chaser is an incredible a capella group.  They have a great mix of humor and talented vocals.  Now that it's officially past Thanksgiving, I'll listen to Christmas music.  I get bored of the old, tired Christmas music, so I love when a group makes up a new Christmas song, or gives an old one a revitalized sound, but mostly I like funny remakes like this.

     This remake of the 12 Days of Christmas is great.  Give it a listen.