Christmas Eve 1881

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving. It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn’t been enough money to buy me the rifle that I’d wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn’t in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn’t get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn’t figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn’t worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. “Come on, Matt,” he said. “Bundle up good, it’s cold out tonight.” I was really upset then. Not only wasn’t I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We’d already done all the chores, and I couldn’t think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one’s feet when he’d told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn’t know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn’t going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn’t happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. “I think we’ll put on the high sideboards,” he said. “Here, help me.” The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high side boards on.

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood – the wood I’d spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. “Pa,” I asked, “what are you doing?” You been by the Widow Jensen’s lately?” he asked.

The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I’d been by, but so what?

Yeah,” I said, “Why?” “I rode by just today,” Pa said. “Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They’re out of wood, Matt.” That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for an other armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. “What’s in the little sack?” I asked. Shoes, they’re out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without a little candy.”

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen’s pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn’t have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn’t have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn’t have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, “Who is it?” “Lucas Miles, Ma’am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?” Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.

“We brought you a few things, Ma’am,” Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children – sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn’t come out.

“We brought a load of wood too, Ma’am,” Pa said.

He turned to me and said, “Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let’s get that fire up to size and heat this place up.” I wasn’t the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn’t speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I’d never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people. I soon had the fire blazing and everyone’s spirits soared.

The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn’t crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. “God bless you,” she said. “I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us.” In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I’d never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true.

I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it. Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen’s face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn’t want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine. At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, “The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We’ll be by to get you about eleven. It’ll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn’t been little for quite a spell.” I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away. Widow Jensen nodded and said, “Thank you, Brother Miles. I don’t have to say , May the Lord bless you, I know for certain that He will.”

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn’t even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, “Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn’t have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand.”

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen’s face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, Whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life. Don’t be too busy today. Share this inspiring message. God bless you!

Let’s all be an “angel” to someone this Christmas season and through out the coming year. If you have children include them so they can experience the joy of helping others.

MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Jack M. Zufelt

“Mentor to Millions”

P.S.-Don’t forget to get your Christmas gift from me!

Here is another wonderful Christmas story. This story touched me deeply. I trust it will you too.

I hope you are enjoying them. I have received many emails saying that my stories are appreciated. Some even share their own story.

If you would like to share yours, I’d love to hear it, leave it in the comments below!

What is Your Christmas Story?

This was written by a Metro Denver Hospice Physician:

I was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die – I barely managed to coast, cursing, into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking

traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn’t even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out

of the “quickie mart ” building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a Gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay

When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen; she was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95.

I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying “don’t want my kids to see me crying,” so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. So I asked, “And you were praying?” That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, “He heard you, and He sent me.”

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fueling, walked to the next door McDonald’s and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little

She told me her name, and that she lived in Kansas City Her boyfriend left 2 months ago and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn’t have money to pay rent Jan 1, and finally in desperation had finally called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They live in California and said she could come live with them and try to get on her feet there.

So she packed up everything she owned in the car. She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas, but not that they were going to live there.

I gave her my gloves, a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, “So, are you like an angel or something?”

This definitely made me cry. I said, “Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people.”

It was so incredible to be a part of someone else’s miracle. And of course, you guessed it, when I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem. I’ll put it in the shop tomorrow to check, but I suspect the mechanic won’t find anything wrong.

Sometimes the angels fly close enough to you that you can hear the flutter of their wings…

Here is another poem I wrote:

If I have two

and you have none;

I must give

so we both have one.

I pray that you have a wonderful Christmas Season with friends and family.

Jack Zufelt

“Mentor to Millions”

A Christmas Story & Gift From Jack!

REMEMBER to scroll to the bottom after you’ve read the story
to receive your Christmas gift from me!

Part 2:  Stories abound that touch the soul and remind us of
what is really important.

Here is one by Claire Robinson:

Eric scuffled out of the run down apartment building. Again
he was alone. The streets looked like a long wet pieces of
black licorice under the street lights.  As Eric walked he
began his escape into another world. He left his feelings of
loneliness and unhappiness and entered a world in which he
hungered to belong.

Why was Eric escaping? Eric was an orphan. His mother died
when he was two and his father was never around. His father
did provide food but he drank away the rest of his earnings.
His brothers and sisters had orphaned him too. They had run
away from the world which seemed to keep Eric a prisoner.
Education had orphaned him too. He just did not have the
clothes or the social acceptance to be a part of school. So
each day would grind painfully past with nothing to do or
live for.

This is why Eric was escaping; escaping into a world of
imagination, fun and fantasy. A world which treated him like
an equal. This wonderful place was the “Christmas World”.
He did not understand why people were so kind at this time
of year, but they were. He loved to walk the streets and see
the lights and Christmas scenes. He loved to hear the gaiety
and laughter of the holiday season. As Eric approached one
department store, he gazed in the window.

There was Santa in red and white sitting in his magnificent
throne giving candy to little children who would sit on his
lap. A tear welled up in his eye. He could never remember
Santa coming to his home.  At age 12 he knew Santa was not
true but still he wished he could find a present under the
non-existent tree in the front room.

Eric became depressed in his beautiful world. No longer was
he equal. He was cold, helpless, hungry and feeling
abandoned. This feeling overwhelmed him and hurt so much
that he darted down an ally to get away from it.

As he was halfway down the ally he heard a soft, timid
whimpering sound. He stopped–looked around–and started to
walk on. He heard the noise again and began to move toward
it. There huddled in a dark corner was a cold wet stranded
puppy. It tired to growl to frighten off this giant
stranger, but it was too weak and hungry for any sound to
come out.

Eric picked up the puppy and began petting it. He became
aware of how frail his new found friend was. He felt a
quiver go through the puppy and realized it was time for a
decision. In his pocket was one of his most treasured
possessions, his lucky dime. He had found it in his mother’s
old purse. Though he never knew his mother he loved the dime
and knew it was lucky because it was once hers. Eric looked
at his dime and he looked at the quivering friend. He held
the puppy tight as he once again emerged into the Christmas
world. Quickly he paced off the two blocks to an old grocery
store. There in that store he left the only remembrance of
his mother and bought a carton of milk.

Carrying the puppy and clutching the milk he descended down
the dark ally. Sitting on the ground, he poured the ivory
liquid into his hand. AS tears trickled down his cheeks,
feelings of loneliness and abandonment vanished. A Strong
union of friendship was created as Eric whispered in the
puppy’s ear, “Puppy, I’ll be your Santa.”

There are many children who will not have much of a
Christmas, if any, this year. Let’s all decide to give to a
child this Christmas season so they can feel loved and be
uplifted no matter what their circumstances are. And
remember, it is not the cost of the present that matters it
is the love that is felt when we give from the heart.

I wrote the following poem after having discovered the
blessings that come to me for giving to others.

To have your spiritual needs met,
It is better to give than to get.
Reach out to those in need
And your soul you will feed.

I hope you all have a wonderful, fun and love filled
Christmas season!

Jack M. Zufelt
“Mentor to Millions”

P.S. And now for my opportunity to give to you!

For the first time ever I’m giving 12 gifts away this year!

Join me in my celebration of the Holidays and except a gift
from me for the next 12 days by going here:

http://www.12daysxmas.com
DNA of Success

It is Christmas time all around the world!

I love this season because it causes people to be nicer, more giving and focused on others.

Just as gifts were brought and given to the Christ child so we, in similitude, give gifts to those we love.

Merry Christmas from Jack Zufelt!

There are two parts to this letter. The first part is a report that will open your eyes about how giving can bless YOUR life, your health and your finances! The second part is the kind of story we all like to read at Christmas time.

Today I’ll be giving you Part 1 so please keep an eye out tomorrow for Part 2 as well as my CHRISTMAS GIFT TO YOU, at the bottom of this letter.

PART 1: Giving Can Bless Your Life!

Did you know that research has proven that giving is good for your health and wealth?

God knew what He was doing when he said it is better to give than to receive. I say let’s do both!

Here is the report sent to me by a friend of mine, Dr. Roger Allen from the Human Development Institute, that proves giving is very beneficial.

Arthur Brookes, an economist and professor of entrepreneurship at the University of Syracuse, works with successful entrepreneurs. In an article entitled The Privilege of Giving (Marriott Alumni Magazine, winter 2008), Dr. Brookes states that the entrepreneurs he works with are very generous. He used to believe they were generous because of their excess wealth. They give money away because they have money. However, many entrepreneurs told him that they have money because they give it away.

Dr. Brookes didn’t believe them and so put their theory to a test. Working with a number of universities and community foundations, Dr. Brookes sponsored a study of thirty thousand American families. The researchers gave these families an exhaustive survey asking questions about their jobs, how much money they make, what they do with their time, whether or not they volunteer, how much money they give away to charities, etc.

To his astonishment, he learned that the more families give away the more they receive. In other words, if you have two families and control for every other variable (education, number kids, region of residence, ages, religion, etc.), but one of those families gives $100 more to charity than the other family, that family will, on average, have a net income of $375 more than the non-giving family and that difference can only be explained by their charitable giving (only variable on which the families are measurably different).

When Dr. Brookes got the data he was convinced it was wrong, so gathered new data, rewrote his analysis and found that he got the same results again … and again. The results consistently suggested that the return on an investment of $1.00 given to charity was $3.75–an amazing outcome.

Giving is its own reward the rewards of giving are far more than financial. There is a good body of research in neuropsychology that shows that people who are generous with their money have more endorphins and fewer stress hormones in their brains. They are both happier and more effective than people who do not give.

Something about giving changes us. But the change only happens when we give “not grudgingly or of necessity” but voluntarily and with goodwill. It is then that the good we put out to others comes back to bless our lives. Spiritual teachers and the great religions of the world have long taught us to give and that our giving shall be returned to us manifold.

In the classic book, The Prophet, Kahlil Gibran imparts profound wisdom about giving. “You oft would say, ‘I would give but only to the deserving.’ The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture. They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.”

And now for my opportunity to give to you!

For the first time ever I’m giving 12 gifts away this year!

Join me in my celebration of the Holidays and accept a gift from me for the next 12 days by going here:

http://www.12daysxmas.com

Merry Christmas!

Jack M. Zufelt

“Mentor to Millions”