The Gift .. Forgiveness

Would any of our readers out there happen to know who the author of this querky Christmas story is? Let us know.

The young boy followed his grandfather out to the barn a few days before Christmas, and watched him reach into the big cabinet to take out an aging gun case, removing a not-so-new looking B.B. gun. The boy’s eyes brightened as the old man handed it to him.

“It belonged to my boy… who was killed in the war.” he said,” “You never knew him, but he was your uncle. I gave this to him when he was about your age. He didn’t treat it so well back then so it has some dents and scars on it but that only makes it better.”

The youngster gave forth some ‘wow’s and a ‘gee whiz’ or two as he shouldered it and uttered a genuine ‘thank you grandpa’ aiming it into the barn loft at make believe targets. The smile on his face was no bigger than the one on the face of the old man, as his eyes moistened. “Your daddy is gonna teach you most ever’ thing about how to shoot it and when to and when not to,” he said. “That little red rider ain’t no toy, an’ you got to remember that you got to be a responsible shooter, an’ not point it at nothin’ but targets for awhile. I don’t never want it to be responsible for any dead birds around here!”

“I promise grandpa, I won’t shoot no birds,” the boy said.

“Well your uncle said the same thing,” his grandfather replied sternly, “ but ever so often I caught him shootin’ at pigeons and blue-jays. In time he used it to kill rats in this here barn, when he got older. I didn’t mind that, but he never wiped them out; so you can do some of that too when you’ve a mind to.”

Then he got more serious and bade the boy to sit down on a nearby hay bale, and cleared his throat to say something more serious, something he had been thinking about since the boy turned twelve years old. “That there was a Christmas gift to my son, long ago,” he began, “and now it is a Christmas gift to you, from him and from me.

The aging grandfather sat down on a barn bench and began to use his hands to talk, as he so often did. “I want you to know more now about what a Christmas gift means. It isn’t very much told to kids today. I know that you learn all about Jesus in church, an’ about him bein’ born in another land across the sea, Bethelham they call it. But what kids like you never think about it how come your ma and pa and me and your grandma go out and buy presents to give to each other. It don’t seem to have nothin’ to do with that baby that was what they call “God’s gift to the world”, so’s we all got a shot at gettin’ to heaven. It is kind of a ritcheeal I think, folks givin’ presents to kids and to their relatives to show that they love ‘em even if they ain’t got much money.”

“I member my grandpa givin’ me stuff he made when I was a youngin, things like whistles an’ slingshots. One Christmas he gave me a big bundle of comic books with the top of the front cover cut off. He got them when he was haulin’ trash to the dump from in town, and they was in it. Boy you don’t know what them comic books meant to me. An’ my grandma made me a shirt one Christmas that I still got.”

The old man took off his cap and scratched his head as if he was trying to think where to go from there. “What young folks your age is got to come to know is this… that baby Jesus, his pa Joseph and his ma, Mary, was as poor as anybody nowadays, poorer by a long shot than me. It is hard to imagine, for me, that Jesus, the man who God sent to earth and told the world that he was HIS son, the man who brought a man called Lazerdus back to life after he had been dead for most of a week… that little baby born out in a barn like this ‘n wound up, 33 years later makin’ blind people see again and crippled people walk. You’d figger that Jesus would have come to earth a growed man, but he didn’t. He came from Mary’s body after he was put there by God Almighty!”

Clutching the old BB gun, the boy sat listening attentively though he had heard the story from his mother and grandmother and in Sunday school, since he was old enough to remember.

But his grand father had more to say. “ But there he was, a little red and wrinkled baby just like any other baby, likely wettin’ his swadellin’ clothes and crying’ when he wanted milk and the like. He didn’t know what he was, an’ what he was to do, he was just a little baby born in a barn. But you know how I know who he was? “The bible says…his voice rose as he went on… an’ boy there is a lot there in that bible that is hard to believe, but this ain’t some of it… the bible says that way off to the east in that land there was a huge star in the sky that hadn’t never been there, and some fellows who were watching a flock of sheep were just amazed that it lit up the whole place. It scared the whey out of ‘em. But angel told them that God’s son had been born, and somehow the word spread, by some other angels to three fellows in the orient who were either small level kings or what they called ‘wise men’. I never did understand what those fellows amounted to exactly by it is obvious they knew who that baby was, and they got on camels to go see him. They had to be richer than a now-days politician, because they decided to bring the new Son of God presents.” “Maybe they just decided to do it to impress God and the angels, but we won’t never know. I don’t figger that way because they didn’t bring him socks or baby rattles, they brought him what was really the best stuff they could get. One brung him gold, one brought expensive perfume an’ the third one brought something else that was rare and expensive that we don’t even have today. The world today believes they came out of love and brought gifts out of love, an’ I’m willin’ to buy that. An’ because of them… those three kings or wise men said to be high-classed rulers from other lands, the world has followed their actions an’ that bible story to give gifts to those around us, mostly to those they love. An those that have it, rich folks like them wise men, give a whole lot to the poor and the needy, because when you foller what Jesus said in those few years he roamed aroun’ tellin’ folks to live yore life as good as you can for others an’ not just yourself. Jesus said if you give to others, then you are like the wise men who gave gifts to Jesus the baby but you give to him in another way… givin’ to others. I ‘spect that got the wise men into heaven. But Jesus when he was on earth, telling us to use our riches to make life better for others because that’s what’ll get us to heaven. But you can’t get in on that if you ain’t rich, an’ what about those of us that are poorer than a barn rat? Most country folks can’t help themselves let alone others. They’s a whole lot more of us then they are rich folks!”

It was quite a speech for the old timer and the boy understood. It was a side of his grandfather he had never seen. To say it meant as much to him as the old air rifle he had been given was quite a stretch, but someday that little talk in the barn would mean more to him than any gift.

His grandfather had more to tell him. “That bb gun there was a gift to your uncle, your mother’s brother. He was an ornery rascal and I preached him many a sermon an’ wholloped his backside a time or two in this old barn.” At that the grandfather smiled big. He took out his red bandana from an overalls pocket, using it to dab at his eyes and then blow his nose.

Then he went on, “They is a verse in the bible where Jesus said that we should love even our enemies an’ I ain’t never learned to do that. I got a terrible dislikin’ for some of them town folks that think they is so high-up and I’d like to see that lawyer Murken get four flat tires at once! But my boy did what I cannot, I reckon. He was killed in the war when he was carryin’ a wounded soldier on his back, back to a safe place.”

“They say that he was killed instantly by a sniper’s bullet, but the soldier he was carryin’, he lived.” By now, the tears were flowing down his weathered cheeks, as he ran his hand through the white hair beneath his cap and looked at the ground.

“What Jesus said was that there is no greater love than what they is when a man gives up his life for another. I know my son met Jesus and he gave Jesus the greatest of gifts, by being the man he was— an’ believin’ what Jesus said an tryin’ to do it. So that little gun there is from me and from your uncle Jess, an’ someday you give it to your boy or grandson with our love and you tell him this story what I’m telling you.”

“I know what Jesus wanted, an’ it don’t get no simpler than that boy… but it ain’t simple for me.” the old man said as the youngster reached out to place his small hand on his grandfathers. He could see the pain in the old timers tears. “He wants all men to live their life thinking of others first, and thinkin’ of ourselves last.” He told his grandson. “He don’t want us to hate, son, but the world is going downhill because this ain’t heaven an’ we all are sinners. It don’t seem like no good is comin’ of things an’ I can’t figger it out… it’s a confusin’ rotten mess.”

“ I have tried my best to think of others more than me”, he said, “an my boy he did too. He died thinkin’ of others first.”

And then, in that old barn there was silence, and the boy shed a tear himself watching his grandfather break down and cry. Finally as he wept, he tried to speak, and through the sobs the boy understood his muffled words.

“I love Jesus an’ most folks,” the old man said, “but I hate that German soldier my son was carryin’ on his shoulders when he died, an’ I hate that low down sniper who shot him. I hope they both go to hell! All the bad evil people I come across, and I’m afraid if I can’t forgive all them then maybe Jesus can’t forgive me! I don’t know if it’ll keep me out of heaven… an’ I wanna see my boy!

Years a later a young man knelt and laid a worn bible on a coffin in a country cemetery. Left alone at the conclusion of the funeral, he spoke in a low voice of Jesus, the Christmas gift from God that his grandfather had helped him know about. “Don’t worry Grandpa” he said, “That gift was for all of us who believe, and you especially. You are forgiven! Say hello to my Uncle Jess for me.”

On the beautifully polished coffin beneath the bible, were the words carved into the wood, “who so ever believeth in me.”