Aiding and Abetting…..

By: J Robert Giles

@JRobertGiles

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”The image is one thing and the human being is another. It’s very hard to live up to an image.”

-Elvis Presley

Is that our problem? Did the King (Elvis, not Obama) manage to sum up the entire scope of American politics and maybe even our society there in that simple, lip-curling, quote? Setting aside Elvis’ affinity for Quaalude flavored doughnuts, there actually is some sense in the words above. Especially when compared to the predicament in which we currently find ourselves.

Today, image seems to be everything. Everybody’s a star and nobody’s unique. Everybody’s better than everyone else so no accomplishment is worthy of praise. In fact, a genuine accomplishment is often frowned upon simply because of public opinion. Greed and an overwhelming sense of self-importance have taken over the very fiber of our country. We say that we want better for our children. We say we don’t contribute personally to the creeping kudzu of fabricated warfare, yet abstinence from combat is often not an option. Our brains simply won’t let us accept what we interpret as inferiority. The noblest of men in our country have, at one time or another, fallen prey to the proverbial “I want what he’s got” mentality. Entire industries have been built upon the notion of attaining what can’t currently be afforded. Our government essentially operates under this mentality.

Whatever happened to saving and yearning for something you can’t currently afford? It’s called entitlement and if you are in favor of getting life handed to you for little to no effort, perhaps this would be a good time for you to catch some form of public transportation right on out of this conversation. For those who believe in working your butts off and only going after that which you can currently afford with what is currently yours to give…..please read and share the following examples of desired image being provided to those who have done nothing to earn it.

• We’ve all heard about the expansion of fraud within the major entitlement programs. Medicare, Medicaid, housing services, food stamps have topped the GAO’s list of waste, fraud and abuse for decades yet they have grown exponentially. In other words, more and more people have figured out that taking something for free is easier than working for it. I’m not saying that no one deserves welfare so put that ridiculous, race-baiting, victim creating nonsense back in your tent and take a little weed-nap, occupier! What I am saying is that the loopholes which allow such abuse are being ignored by those who could close them and exploited by those who gain from them. Our government is hemorrhaging money and all we hear from our leaders President and Congress is “it’s all his fault” or “it’s because {insert manufactured oppressor here} hates the {insert manufactured voting victim here}.”
• Take a look at the so called Buffett Rule Obama is so excited about. Every time he gets to talk about increasing the tax burden of the “rich” or forcing the wealthy to pay their “fair share” he gets visibly giddy. We, as a country, are trillions of dollars in debt. The Buffett rule, over the next decade, would bring in an estimated $46.7 billion. Under Obama’s proposals, our debt would increase by $7 TRILLION over that same decade. The Buffet Rule would make up exactly .667142857% of the money Obama plans to spend over the next decade. The men that Obama parades out onto the stage with him when he promotes this ludicrous idea are men who, like Mitt Romney, earn the majority of their income off of capital gains and dividends, not taxable wages. Notice no one is suggesting that those rates be touched. You know who will be affected the most by these new rules? It’s the young pro-athlete who is out there blindly promoting Obama because of a shared skin tone. He’s the one who earns over a million dollars a year in taxable income. It’s the idiotic little actress who uses her fame to promote Obama as the Messiah. Those people are the ones that Obama counts on in November. Those are the people that will promote Obama’s message of “fairness.” Their fame provides all the authority that will be needed to make them credible supporters in Obama’s constant campaign. In a society where disrespectful sound-bytes equal power and credibility, Obama has inserted himself as King.
• This morning, I heard the delightful tale of another blatant misuse of a once noble idea. Kimball Clark, a 45 year old Boston man who has had a long history of “disagreement” with the police, was once again locked up for selling heroin. His “disagreement” stems from the fact that he believes he should be able to sell heroin while the police maintain that it’s still illegal and punishable by arrest. During the booking process at a Dorchester, MA Police Lockup, Clark was overheard making his one phone call to tell someone to “go get {his} EBT card and go to an ATM to get cash and bail him out.” He used his taxpayer funded EBT card to post bail for drug distribution. Now, I’m sure I will be called a racist for bringing this topic up in such a light but where in the hell does a man’s skin color give him the right to use MY money to bail him out of jail for selling drugs? I don’t care if Kimball Clark was as green as Gumby or as blue as a Smurf, he abused a system whose scope was never intended to cover his illegal activities and inherent lifestyle.
• EBT Cards began replacing food stamps in the 1990’s. They essentially work like an ATM card only it’s you and me working for the money that goes into the accounts, not the cardholder. Since cash can be obtained from the cards, we are essentially funding whatever the cardholder chooses to do. Drugs, and porn all the way to tithing and baby formula. The intent of the program, like so many before it, was heartfelt. Unfortunately, loopholes are exploited and broadcast long before authorities can close them up.
• Social Security Disability fraud is rampant yet very little seems to be done about it. In July of last year, Judge David Daugherty of West Virginia stepped down amidst an investigation into the fact that he approved almost every disability claim that came before his court. Eighteen months of Social Security disposition data show Daugherty decided 2,104 disability cases between Sept. 26, 2009, and March 25, 2011. He denied benefits in four cases. That equaled an approval rate of 99.8 percent. Anybody hear about this? No matter what was found in the course of that particular investigation, it points to a much bigger, systemic problem in our culture. It points to the fact that a judge was rumored to be giving out free money and 2,104 people lined up outside his court for their “fair share.”

Entitlement programs do not need to be expanded. They need to be enforced. The government does not need to support those who are simply lining up for a handout. If someone is truly unable to provide for themselves, then I praise God that we live in a country willing to step in and help. That’s what these programs were designed to do. That’s great. What I don’t agree with is this mentality that nothing is out of reach for anyone in this country.

I want to take my family to Hawaii for about ten days next year. Is there a government program I should ask to provide this trip or should I just buckle down and save my money and earn the trip? Remember when attaining the goal was as important as the goal itself? Remember when the struggle and the journey enriched the achievement?

“Fair Share” does not mean “free.” By living in this country you are given the fair share of the freedom due to you, but you are also expected to maintain your fair share of the responsibility. You don’t get the money without putting in the work. You don’t get to waste our precious electoral system by voting for the candidate you feel will give you the most free stuff. You don’t get to discredit the intentions of our Constitution by manipulating it to serve only your personal interests. Don’t expect His Barackness or any of his little handbag Chihuahuas to attack this issue. Don’t expect any politician to attack this issue. Doing so will immediately cost them votes. Besides, I’m not sure we want to know the entire scope of the fraud that has ruined our country’s initiative, motivation, and net worth. The change in this arena will come from a constant and impossible to ignore outcry whenever abuse is suspected. Politicians are afraid of losing the votes of those who benefit from fraud but why are those votes they depend on? Why is more not being done to bring shame onto those who are essentially robbing each and every one of us? Stand up and fight, dammit!

As always, thanks for playing!

J Robert Giles

 

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We Take Issue With Your Issues….

By: J Robert Giles

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“Your life does not get better by chance, it gets better by change.”   - Jim Rohn

 

With the results of the New Hampshire Presidential Primary still buzzing around the screens of almost every major news outlet, we are reminded yet again of the fact that a president is only as capable as the people he represents. All the political change in the world will not do us a bit of good if we, the people asked to carry out the bold  predictions of those seeking office, are not willing to put in the work necessary to get there. Right now, we’re not at that point. That’s not to say that we’re lazy. We’re not. The world likes to paint us as lazy, unhealthy, greedy, narcissistic morons but the world is jealous. The world is jealous of the freedom we so often take for granted. The world is jealous of the advancements that freedom has bestowed and the creativity it has possibilitized. (That’s right! My beautiful bride is not the only one who can make up a word and then use it with emphatic authority.) The issues our government identifies as the ones that are important to us are the ones on which campaigns are run, but the changes the candidates promise to deliver are not the changes we need. Even the mighty Barack Hussein Obama missed the mark……I’ll give you a moment to gather your emotions……today when he delivered his pathetic speech about “insourcing.” The changes we need have to start within our own homes and they will start at a time of our own choosing. I think we’re all on the verge of making that choice. The bottom line is that in order to get to where the candidates promise to take us, we have to get government out of our way. Are any of them truly capable of delivering that order? (Settle down, Ron Paul supporters…..it wasn’t an invitation to scream and type a lot! You’re getting there, and I know I’m speaking your language, but this is not necessarily a political article.)

We often complain about government’s constant interference in our lives yet we seem to stop caring right about the time an opportunity for justified action presents itself. Ron Paul, with his consistent rise in popularity, throws around the phrase “Restore America Now” wherever he may be speaking. It’s all over his website, and all of his merchandise. It’s a great slogan and one that I’m sure Mr. Paul actually believes in. The problem is that the phrase, in it’s use as a presidential campaign slogan, assumes that the restoration process will begin within the hallowed halls of a government building. It will not. The restoration of America will start at your dinner table. It will start with the ideals and the morals you pass onto your family. The only way the government will be involved is by stepping aside and watching with a proud tear in it’s eye as the people of this country make it great once more. Restoration starts in the hearts and in the minds of those people. The restrictions from which we are so desperate to free ourselves are not exclusively those imposed on us by our own government. but rather the mental restrictions we have placed on ourselves. We doubt our own abilities so we see no reason to take the first step. We fear that our actions won’t make us gazillionaires, so we don’t nurture our own ambitions. Our greed allows us to believe that no salary is worth our precious attendance so, like Cousin Eddie, we “hold out for a management position.” Pessimism has run rampant for the better part of the last decade and it’s time to pack it up, toss it in the attic, and enjoy a few years of optimism. Not the kind of optimism that gets described from the stage at a political event but the kind that infects and entire family. The kind that then cause that family to go out in the world and infect more families. How do we start? Well, as is so often the case, we start with the kids.

Kids are the most abundant source of positive energy known to man. Their world has not yet been poisoned with the travesties of greed, responsibility, sexuality, or hatred. Their world is one in which their own imaginations shelter them. Their innocence protects them, and their naiveté grants them pardon. If we’re not working to secure a better world for them than the one into which they were born, then what is it all for? What are we striving for? Is this as good as it’s ever going to get? Have we ‘begun our initial descent?’ I don’t believe that we have. I believe we have been in a decline for a number of years, but I also believe that all great changes are usually preceded by chaos.The changes we make today must be enforced by our children in the future. We must pass on the lunacy that terrible ideology delivered to our country, but only as a lesson, not as a lifestyle. We must educate our children to the farthest extent to which they, as individual children, are willing to travel. For decades, the idea of a voucher system for public education has been kicked around in heated debates and closely contested campaign battles. Unfortunately, once the votes are counted, the issue is thrust back into dormancy where it will remain until the next election. No more, it’s time for change. Union control of our children’s education is literally destroying their brains along with the future of our country. The dumbest kid in my school would be on the honor roll, possibly pre-writing his valedictorian speech, in today’s public school system. Good teachers are silenced by those with unionized tenure. It’s time to allow our kids to study among children who will encourage their success with their presence alone. More importantly, it’s time for our children to be able to go to a school specifically tailored for their abilities, aptitudes, and strengths. The days of “all for one” are over. If your kid is more interested in video games, lethargy, and public indecency then he/she should not be receiving the same education as the kid who’s interested in becoming a cardiovascular surgeon. A voucher system would allow such progress.

My grandfather died in 1985. If he were to return, would I be able to justify the enormous decline in decency that floods our streets today? Could I look him in the eye and say “this is what we’ve done with the world you left us”? In so many ways, we view ourselves as so far ahead of where we were then. Technology has boomed. Medical  advancements of today might very well have saved his life back then, and communications are today what science fiction films were back then. Seriously, has anyone watched Back to The Future II lately? My grandfather, and I’m guessing many of yours. would be appalled if he saw what children today are wearing, or heard how they speak to adults. The world my grandfathers left to me still had quite a bit of it’s decency. Today, that’s all gone. We’ve come to accept disrespect as a “phase.” Dirty and uneducated has somehow come to mean “courageous.” Disruptive is now funny, while intelligence is frowned upon.kids are afraid to succeed because of what the process would take away form their social calendar. There are changes needed in that regard for which a president simply can’t impact, no matter how big of a check he may write.

I want my son to grow up with the same pride in America that I felt when I was about his age. There was hope. There was laughter. They have to see an example of someone pulling themselves up from the depths of a brooding, nationwide depression and smack the snot out of those who hold us down. Our kids need to see us say “enough is enough” and take this country back from the dangerous hands in which it is now entrusted. We can no longer afford to sit back and hope that someone else delivers change to our door, it’s time to build the change behind our own doors, and then deliver it to someone else when it’s perfected. Living within the guiding coordinates of God’s compass is a great way to live, even if you’re one of the unfortunate souls who hasn’t seen God’s work in your life yet. It’s a great way to raise your family. It’s a great centering point for the confused, often scared minds of your kids.

 

As always, thanks for playing.

 

J. Robert Giles

 

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Time to Believe....

By: J Robert Giles

Christmas Series 2011 (Part 3)

 

"I truly believe that if we keep telling the Christmas story, singing the Christmas songs,
and living the Christmas spirit, we can bring joy and happiness and peace to this world."  

- Norman Vincent Peale

 

 

 

I love Christmas. Christmas, like no other time on the calendar, is a celebration of faith. Christmas brings out the child in even the most rigid of men. Strangers seem a little more familiar when they display evidence of a mutual belief. Christmas provides clear proof of this fact. The disgustingly rude blob that works behind the counter at the local convenience store displays an “It’s all about CHRISTmas” button on his shirt yesterday and suddenly he’s a little less revolting. The genuinely pleasant guy at Starbuck’s with the giant bolt in his face and those lovely, see-through earlobes says “Merry Christmas” with a smile on his face and suddenly he seems like a teammate. I have no idea if these men will celebrate the season with any similarities whatsoever to the festivities and traditions of my own home, but Christmas is the one time of year that allows me to believe they will. We’re bred at an early age to behold the majestic beauty of the Christmas spirit. Santa is one of the first real examples of faith a human being will ever know.

Santa, especially to a 7-12 year old kid, is the ultimate test in faith. At that age, the understanding of the most important kind of faith is limited at best, and conversations are pretty minimal. Santa, however, is easily understood. The physics of chimney accessibility, global travel, and quadruped aviation are irrelevant. As an adult, faith is even more unfathomable when God is the recipient of our belief. On almost a daily basis, we are asked to defend our faith in a God that can’t be seen. We are forced to humbly accept the ridicule from the progressive enlightened bunch. Our faith is twisted and manipulated to support certain causes for which it should never be asked to represent. Through it all, we have faith. We have faith and we have peace. It’s that peace that allows us to smile at the grossly arrogant doubt that oozes from nonbelievers. True magic occurs when someone with adamant faith in both God and Santa is found.

Kids understand their belief in Santa. It can’t be questioned. The fact that they have never seen him delivering the presents doesn’t even make a dent in the encasing armor of their faith. Why is it then that adults sometimes seem to stumble when pressed about their faith in God? Why is it that questioning someone about their belief in God can be done from a platform of assumed superiority but to question a child about their belief in Santa with a condescending tone will bring about a public beating? Why are the two not regarded with the same respect? Christmas has become more of a statement than a celebration. It’s become more about defiance than joy; on both sides of the argument. Those of us who accept that our best Christmas gift was delivered to a manger in Bethlehem feel that we must remain defiant in the face of opposition. Our public celebration of Our Savior’s birth is our signature on the enlistment papers. Those who feel that Christmas and all of it’s faith is something beneath their level of intelligence should not be allowed to celebrate the tangible, earthly benefits of Jesus’ Birthday Party as they mock it’s true origin yet their defiant opposition seems to be their battle cry. Those who worship another, less “fact-based” God…..well…..what the heck are you doing reading this article?!?! Belief in Santa, however, is encouraged in kids born into both sides of the argument. All of us would absolutely welcome the discovery of Santa’s Workshop. If your favorite TV show was interrupted with news that everything you ever heard about Santa Claus was just proven to be true, you would cry with joy. You would be free to be a kid again. You’re smiling right now just thinking about it, aren’t you? I sure am!

We believe that Santa lives at the North Pole, but we can’t believe that Jesus lives everywhere? We believe in Santa’s magical flying sleigh, but we can’t believe that Jesus walked on water? Santa brings joy once every year and we look forward to his visit with eager anticipation yet we shun Jesus’ constant presence and guidance. Santa slithers down your chimney, uninvited, in the middle of the night; eats your cookies and possibly takes pictures of you while you’re sleeping. Kind of creepy, right? Jesus, however is more of a gentleman. He knocks at your door and waits patiently for your invitation to enter. You have to wait in long lines at the mall to see a Santa that smells like old Mac n’ Cheese and paint thinner but a conversation with Jesus only requires the mention of His name. We believe that Santa leaves gifts under our tree and under the trees of every other kid on earth but we can’t accept that God gave us the gift of Jesus? We haven’t ever seen Santa yet our faith remains. God can be seen everywhere if He is truly sought. God can be seen in happy times just like Santa, but God is also present in sadness. God can be seen in the lessons learned from heartbreaking loss. God can be seen in illness and He can be seen in friendship. His presence can be seen in disaster but only to those willing to see it.

Christmas is a celebration of faith. Proudly display yours!

 

 

SEEING JESUS

I’m sure you’ve heard stories before of Jesus being seen in varying circumstances. You may have even heard the story I’m about to re-tell (with a bit of good old fashioned creative license) before. Once again, cliché stories take on magical meaning when told against the backdrop of Christmas!

In 1962, there was a young preacher travelling through the Midwest at Christmas time. The preacher was single and he was leaving his job in Indianapolis to go to his family home in Michigan. Anyone who has ever spent any time in the Midwest this time of year knows that the weather conditions can get downright nasty. It was one of those days. Blowing snow racing along the surface of the interstate like an advancing army; a painful bite to the wind, and temperatures so cold it makes breathing a task. There was ice in spots, but it didn’t stop the young preacher from racing down the virtually traffic free interstate in his Corvette.

Several hours into his trip the preacher saw a soldier standing under an overpass with his government issue cap pulled down over his head as tightly as it would go. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he weathered the howling winds and the fine powder of old snow it carried in it’s momentum. His large, stereotypical duffel bag, stuffed as full as physically possible, stood at rigid attention beside him.

The preacher, travelling much faster than he should have been considering the road conditions, sped past the soldier. As he did, he noticed the young man jerk one of his hands out of his pocket and extend his thumb. The preacher gave little thought to altering his course for this stranger. Not because he was a mean man, but simply because he was driving a two-seater and the seat not caressing his own derriere was piled high with gifts and clothes for his Christmas vacation in Michigan.  The trunk of a Corvette is just big enough for two pints of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked Ice Cream (I suggest you go ahead buy three though. Eat one on the way home! IT’s THAT good!) so it wouldn’t prove to be much help even if he did want to stop and pick up this inconvenient stranger. He whipped past the shivering, camouflaged soldier and tried to put his blossoming guilt out of his mind before it grew.

He was unsuccessful in those attempts. The Christian in him simply wouldn’t allow him to leave a fellow human being out in the cold like that…..especially a soldier…..at CHRISTMAS! He was a preacher for heaven’s sake! He did a u-turn after about five miles of begrudging inner negotiations, and hoped the whole way back to the bridge that someone else had stopped and picked up the Army-cicle. No such luck. He stood there in the same position he had been on the first pass only now he looked more forlorn and miserable than before.  His eyes were closed as if the cold had begun to shut down the nonessential functions of his body.The preacher pulled up as the soldier opened his eyes and walked excitedly to his car. The poor man’s teeth were chattering. Thick collections of ice could be seen in his eyelashes and eyebrows as he approached as quickly as his frozen, often dragging feet would allow.

The grateful soldier was determined but proud. When the preacher began to explain the limited space, the soldier never accepted defeat. The preacher pulled away from that bridge having stuffed the soldier into the passenger seat, his duffel bag between his legs, and all of the clothes and presents in his lap. The poor man couldn’t see out of any windows and boxes slid around in his lap, but never once did he complain. Feeling began to return to his extremities, and with it came his voice.

He explained that he was stationed at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. “Didn’t I see you go by a little while ago? Not many Corvettes out today, kind of sticks out in my head.”

“Yes, that was me?” the preacher replied.

“You mean you turned around and came back?” The astonished soldier inquired. “Why would you do that?”

“I was raised in a home where helping others was always viewed as a gift that was never to be squandered. Plus, I’m a Christian minister. Leaving you out there in the cold just wouldn’t be right. I didn’t really think you would fit in the car, so I thought I could offer my assistance without having to actually do anything to be honest, but apparently God saw through that little ploy.” The preacher explained. “Honestly, if I wasn’t a Christian I’d probably still be racing along without a second thought whatsoever. Jesus guides me to do some things that I simply wouldn’t consider without Him.”

The soldier was silent. He just stared at the preacher for several minutes before he spoke. Even if he had been able to see out any of the windows around him, he probably would have stared at the young minister just the same. When he finally spoke it was with the shaky chords of a man using every mental weapon in his arsenal to fight back the tearful emotions attempting to seize control of him. “You have no idea how that convicts me.” he said in a shaky but confident tone. “I’m no Christian, sir. My wife is a Christian and she’s just about the greatest woman alive. She takes our kids to Church every Sunday despite my constant encouragement to just stay home with me instead. A few weeks ago, I was turned down for holiday leave because I got drunk and caused some trouble on post. I was sick about it. When another solider found out his parents were coming to spend the Holidays with some nearby relatives, he offered to relieve me of my duties so that I could get home. I had already loaned my care to another platoon-mate, and I had spent all my money on these gifts I was going to ship home to my wife and kids.” he patted his duffel bag. “I decided to start hitchhiking. My family doesn’t even know I’m coming home.”

The preacher, who had been a little put-off by the inconvenience this stranger was causing him, was now completely enthralled.

“I had been standing out there under that overpass for three and a half hours and it occurred to me that some of those passing cars had to have been carrying Christians, right? I began to get kind of bitter about it until I started to accept the fact that if I were them, I wouldn’t have stopped either. I wouldn’t have even considered it. In fact.I might have tried to splash me if I was one of the drivers! Anyway, I got so cold, so lonely, and so desperate that I began to pray. I’ve never really done it before but I’ve heard my wife say ‘just have a conversation with Him’ so many times that I just started to talk to God. I prayed that he would please send someone to help me and you want to know the embarrassing part……you showed up as soon as I opened my eyes from that prayer.”

The preacher made no attempts to hide the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “I wasn’t going to come back but your image just wouldn’t leave my brain. Everything I preach would have been discredited if I had left you there.”

The pair of now familiar strangers pulled up to the soldier’s much missed home and sat in the driveway. The preacher honked his horn as instructed and a few moments later the front door opened just a crack. A curious child could be seen peering through the frosted glass, only able to see a car in the driveway, not it’s inhabitants. Finally, the soldier stepped out of the car and yelled toward the house “Hey, Buddy! Daddy came home for Christmas!”

Before the shakily joyous words escaped his lungs, the door swung open and a woman in a bathrobe and house slippers came bursting out into the snow covered yard. It was dark but the joyful tears could be seen flowing down her cheeks as she embraced her husband and let her emotions flow freely. The soldier hugged all three of his kids several times as tears of his own flowed more freely than the preacher had ever seen on the face of a man before.The wife and the kids thanked the preacher and explained that they had been praying for the last week that Christmas would somehow deliver “their daddy.”

That young preacher was given a lesson that he would never be able to teach a congregation. He was able to see firsthand the work of God. He was able to acknowledge the power of God in his own life and admitted that Jesus is truly in control. We can’t all rescue a soldier from frostbite in 1962, but we can all witness the power of God in our homes this Christmas. Spread it around and do your part to keep that Faith going year round.  

 

 

As always, thanks for playing!

 

J. Robert Giles

 

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Only at Christmas….

By: J Robert Giles

CHRISTMAS SERIES 2011 (Part 2)

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“We Make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.”  - Winston Churchill

 

 

'The Christmas Angels'

Original Story by: Susan Fahncke

 

It was December 23, 1993. For a single mom who was going to college and supporting my children completely alone, Christmas was looking bleak. I looked around my little home, realization dawning like a slow, twisting pain. We were poor.

Our tiny house had two bedrooms, both off the living room. They were so small that my baby daughter's crib barely fit into one room, and my son's twin bed and dresser were squeezed into the other. There was no way they could share a room, so I made my bed every night on the living room floor.

The three of us shared the only closet in the house. We were snug, always only a few feet from each other, day and night. With no doors on the children's rooms, I could see and hear them at all times. It made them feel secure, and it made me feel close to them -- a blessing I wouldn't have had in other circumstances.

It was early evening, about eight o'clock. The snow was falling softly, silently, and my children were both asleep. I was wrapped in a blanket, sitting at the window, watching the powdery flakes flutter in the dimming light, when my front door vibrated with a pounding fist.

Alarmed, I wondered who would stop by unannounced on such a snowy winter night. I opened the door to find a group of strangers grinning from ear to ear, their arms laden with boxes and bags.

Confused, but finding their joyous spirit contagious, I grinned right back at them.

"Are you Susan?" The man stepped forward as he held out a box for me.

Nodding stupidly, unable to find my voice, I was sure they thought I was mentally deficient.

"These are for you." The woman thrust another box at me with a huge, beaming smile. The porch light and the snow falling behind her cast a glow over her dark hair, lending her an angelic appearance.

I looked down into her box. It was filled to the top with delicious treats, a fat turkey, and all the makings of a traditional Christmas dinner. My eyes filled with tears as the realization of why they were there washed over me.

Finally coming to my senses, I found my voice and invited them in. Following the husband were two children, staggering with the weight of their packages. The family introduced themselves and told me their packages were all gifts for my little family. This wonderful, beautiful family, who were total strangers to me, somehow knew exactly what we needed. They brought wrapped gifts for each of us, a full buffet for me to make on Christmas Day, and many "extras" that I could never afford. Visions of a beautiful, "normal" Christmas literally danced in my head. Somehow my secret wish for Christmas was materializing right in front of me. The desperate prayers of a single mom had been heard, and I knew right then that God had sent his angels my way.

My mysterious angels then handed me a white envelope, gave me another round of grins, and took turns hugging me. They wished me a Merry Christmas and disappeared into the night as suddenly as they had appeared.

Amazed and deeply touched, I looked around me at the boxes and gifts strewn at my feet and felt the ache of depression suddenly being transformed into a childlike joy. I began to cry. I cried hard, sobbing tears of the deepest gratitude. A great sense of peace filled me. The knowledge of God's love reaching into my tiny corner of the world enveloped me like a warm quilt. My heart was full. I fell to my knees amid all the boxes and offered a heartfelt prayer of thanks.

Getting to my feet, I wrapped myself in my blankets and sat once again to gaze out the window at the gently falling snow. Suddenly, I remembered the envelope. Like a child, I ripped it open and gasped at what I saw. A shower of bills flitted to the floor. Gathering them up, I began to count the five, ten, and twenty-dollar bills. As my vision blurred with tears, I counted the money, then recounted it to make sure I had it right. Sobbing again, I said it out loud: "One hundred dollars."

I looked at my children sleeping soundly, and through my tears I smiled my first happy, free-of-worry smile in a long, long time. My smile turned into a grin as I thought about tomorrow: Christmas Eve. One visit from complete strangers had magically turned a painful day into a special one that we would always remember...with happiness.

It is now several years since our Christmas angels visited. I have remarried, and our household is happy and richly blessed. Every year since that Christmas in 1993, we have chosen a family less blessed than we are. We bring them carefully selected gifts, food and treats, and as much money as we can spare. It's our way of passing on what was given to us. It's the "ripple effect" in motion. We hope that the cycle continues and that, someday, the families we share with will be able to pass it on, too.

 

Susan’s story is a perfect illustration of what Christmas is all about. Her story could have taken place at any time of the year and the immediate effects enjoyed by her family would have been the same. They would have been grateful for the food and money, but it wouldn’t have had the lasting impact that this season tends to deliver only to those of us willing to accept it.

Obviously, it’s loads of fun to receive gifts. Everyone loves it. I’m not going to lie and tell you that I don’t enjoy the thrill of opening up a carefully wrapped present on Christmas morning any less as an adult than I did as a child. That elated curiosity that brings a smile to your face as you reveal the contents to a waiting audience. That’s a terrific feeling no matter what the occasion, but Christmas carries a weight with which no other celebration can compete. Something about the spiritual celebration that takes place in the hearts of Christians this time of year just makes us remember the events a little more vividly. Like a movie that you truly connect with. You remember not only the lines spoken and the facial expressions displayed, but you remember your own emotional reactions to each and every scene. For most of us, that seems to be the case with Christmas as well, but can any of you truly imagine the joy Susan felt that morning when the “angels” visited her?

If you think long and hard about it, I bet you would be surprised at just how easily all of us can relate to Susan’s story. All of us have gone through that one Christmas where money was especially tight, options were bleak, and panic seemed to have you one negative event away from thinning out the population around you. We’ve all been there. The fact that you’re reading this article tells my keen sense of deduction that you survived the nightmare. For many of us, there was a shining moment, in the midst of those dark hours, that we can point to as the moment we knew we would get through it. For some, it was a generous gift from an unknown source. For others, it was the perfect gift given by your perfect person. Maybe your shining moment came when Christmas morning delivered the first smiles since the recent funeral of a much loved family member. Whatever the moment, we got through it. Susan tells a dramatic story, from the perspective of a desperate woman. What separates Susan from the people seeking handouts and expecting free luxury is that her prayer was not uttered out of self-centered greed. She had accepted the label of “poor.” Her prayer was for her children. In the midst of putting herself through college, and struggling on her own, she prayed for the ability to deliver happiness to her children. Not expensive gifts, not extravagant trinkets they would forget within a month. She prayed for the ability to deliver happiness to her own children.

And what about the family that God asked to deliver His answer to Susan’s prayer? It’s safe to assume that at some point, that family sat down and made a conscious decision to help a needy family. There’s a huge difference between needy and lazy. Susan was needy and she received blessings as such. Had she been simply lazy, such good fortune would not have come her way. Yes, she may have received the food. She may have received gifts to give to her children, but those were not the actual gifts she received that day. Those were the earthly representations of her gifts, but through her Faith she was able to see the lesson beyond the tangible objects. She was able to see that the true gift was her own ability to accept the generosity of others. Many of us don’t really see acceptance of someone else’s generosity as a gift. Sadly, it comes all to naturally in this “give it to me now – just charge it and worry about it later – do whatever feels good to you” society we live in. That seems to be all we do anymore is receive, take, and discard. Susan, like so many of what seems like an overwhelming minority, realized that she would only realize the full blessing of that generous gift if she strived to one day be on the other side of the transaction.  As much as the food and the money helped Susan and her blossoming family that year, the true gift has been in her ability to give the same joy to others. Only the recipients can determine if they gain the same experience Susan and her children gained from the generosity of strangers, but somehow Christmas allows us to believe that they will. Christmas, and the defiant birthday celebration it was intended to be, add special impact to normal events. Generosity goes further at Christmas than any other time of the year so get out there and give something. Give time, energy, or money but just make sure your experience doesn’t end upon delivery.

As always, thanks for playing!

J. Robert Giles