The Gifts of Christmas - The Perfect Gift
Posted: Friday, November 27, 2009
by Mark Parsec
Wordcasters
Is it not odd how so many childhood memories are lost and forgotten for so long in the fog of yesterday? Until, one day, like the spring thaw releasing green sprouts from beneath the melting ice, the memories burst forth with color and life. Such was the case with one particular Christmas memory from long ago. It had been forgotten for many, many years, until one day, not long ago, it resurfaced with a flood of emotions and significance. It was a Christmas like no other. It was a Christmas when I received the most wonderful gifts of all.
On this particular Christmas our family had gone, as usual, to Grandma and Grandpa's house. This was not an "over the river and through the woods" type of adventure. This was a drive through the hard heart of the city, over the toll roads and through the streets of Chicago. Yet, as unsavory as the city was with all of its black slush and shades of gray snow, Grandma's house was a refuge and sanctuary filled with vibrant life and light, color and sounds.
Upon entering grandparent's home, one could smell all the aromas of Christmas - pine and cinnamon, peppermint and ham, and chocolate. And, the not so Christmas aroma, but ever present smell of moth balls and fish aquariums that distinguished Grandma and Grandpa's home.The tree in the corner of the living room glistened and glittered with silver tinsel and lights of every color, and ornaments of every size, shape and variety. High upon the top of the magical evergreen a beautiful angel heralded all visitors with a flowing robe, gold hair and white wings. Beneath the tree, to my surprise, Santa had already left stacks of gifts wrapped ever so carefully in green and gold, red and blue, white and silver, with ribbons and bows. Around the treasure of presents, a model train went round and round.
Christmas was still somewhat of a mystery to me at the young age of five or six. Of Santa, I was certain, but there was talk of another character of whom songs were joyfully and solemnly sung. Who was this child? What child was this, who laid to rest, whom angels greet? Who was this baby, Christ the King?The joy and excitement, devotion and praise for this little boy was a curious and awe inspiring thing for me. The songs about Him stirred me deep within to tears.
I remember asking my mother, "Who is this baby Jesus, Mommy?"
"Oh" she said ever so softly, "He is the Son of God."
"The Son of God?" I asked quite curiously. For at this time I did not even know who or what God might be. However, I knew He had to be someone special and His Son must have been someone wonderful indeed.
Now, you should know, we were not a Christian family. We did not attend church; we did not read the Bible or pray. In any event, at this particular moment my grandfather piped up and said, "You know, they're having a special Christmas program down at my brother's church. He is going to be talking about Jesus. I have been invited to go, and I think I will. Would anyone like to go with me?"
"Oh, can I Mom?" I asked. "Can I go with Grandpa to hear about baby Jesus?"
There was some discussion and protests from siblings. After all, the gifts could not be opened if everyone was not present and if Grandpa and I went to the church, everybody would have to wait. Nevertheless, Grandpa won out and soon he and I climbed into his old '46 Buick Super and drove away.
When we arrived at the church and went inside, I was surprised to see a room filled to overflowing. There was standing room only, and since we were late, we stood in the back. I bobbed and weaved to see around all the people in front of us until I finally spied the person everyone was looking at and listening to so intently.
At first I did not understand what the preacher man was talking about, but soon enough his conversation came upon the name of Jesus…"He was the Son of God," the preacher said, "born of a virgin in a manger, because there was no room for him at the inn. There amidst the stench and the squalor of animals, He was brought into this world. Kings and shepherds and angels would worship Him. And why? Because, Jesus, was the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Jesus, the only begotten of the Father, who would be crucified upon the cross and resurrected from the dead."
As the preacher continued in his sermon, his voice faded away in my mind as he spoke of things I did not understand. Then he suddenly stopped speaking and pointed at me.
"Some day that boy will grow up to be a mighty man of God!" he proclaimed. "The Spirit of the Lord shall be upon him and he will declare the gospel of Jesus Christ and turn many away from sin and bring many into the Kingdom of God."
There was a muffled roar in the room filled with gasps and awes. Many of those who were near to me looked upon me with wide eyes, some stepped away, some drew closer. Then the preacher came down to the back of the church and laid his hand upon my head and blessed me as a group of older men formed a circle all around me and prayed.
I did not know what to think about all of this at the time. I was still thinking about baby Jesus. But, my Grandpa certainly had his thoughts about the matter. He turned pale and began shaking nervously. And it seemed as if the prayers did not end soon enough for Grandpa, because as soon as the old men stopped praying over me he took me by the hand and led me quickly back outside to his car.
Grandpa was still shaking when we got into the car and he quickly reached under his seat where he grabbed a bottle of whiskey, from which he took a few good swigs. Then he lit up a cigar and off we rode back to his house.
Yes, that event took place many years ago, so many years, in fact, that the memory could easily have been forgotten forever. It was only recently that I remembered it at all; only when the fogs of forgetfulness had faded away and the ice of time had melted away.
It took over forty-years of a life filled with sin and vice for the preacher's prophecy to be fulfilled. Years of alcohol, drugs, sex and crime. Years of selfishness and self-centeredness. Years of forgetfulness. However, when the time was right, I heard the message again and believed, this time, not as a child but as a man. I confessed my sins, repented and I received the gift of God's Son, Jesus Christ - forgiveness for sins and the hope of salvation.
And, what of the old preacher's prophecy? It too came true, my friend. For today, I am a man of God, a pastor of a church, and many people have been led into the Kingdom of God. Today, I can thank God for the Gift of His Son, Jesus Christ. I thank God too, for restoring the memory of the Old Preacher and his prophecy and that God in His mercy has fulfilled this promise in a sinner such as me. To Him be all praise and honor and glory forever, for His Word shall never return to him void.
If you enjoyed this article you may be interested in another Christmas story by Mark Parsec, The Angel In Pigtails - A Christmas Story. Just go to the following link:
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Top-level comments on this article: (6 total)Wonderful memory Mark,I am so blessed to be married to you, you old preacher man! Thanks for a beatiful story.Love you,MichelleHi Honey,I am the one who is blessed, dear. And yes... I am an Old Preacher man now. Thank you for being here to share my memories with me.I love you,Mark
Nice bring back memories. Thank youHi Jim,Good to hear from you again. Hope they were pleasant memories for you.God bless you,Mark
Thanks for your continued witness. I pray your true life story will have an impact for our Lord.Hi Robert,Thank you for your comments. I trust you will have a very blessed Christmas season.Mark
Dear Brother Mark:Just a note to let you know this wonderful, warm article is a blessing to me.Happy Holidays!Hi Bonnie,Thank you. I'm glad that you were blessed by the article, sister. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas this year.Blessings,Mark
Very touching and anointed story. HE is able even though we sometimes fight and kick and scream all the way before crying out to Him who can set the captive free! MarijoHi Marijoy,You betcha! And boy, did I do a lot of fighting, kicking and screaming. Ran from Him for years.Mark
Hi Mark,Just a note to say I enjoyed your article very much.I am going through a bit of a hard time right now and came across it, maybe stumbled is more like it, while looking for information on recovery.Thank you for a moment of brightness and pick me up on an otherwise dark day!LarryHi Larry,Glad the article was able to encourage you. I support you in your recovery as well... one day at a time.Mark
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