The
old man sat in his gas station on a cold Xmas Eve. He hadn't been
anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another
day to him. He didn't hate Xmas, just couldn't find a reason to
celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been
falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the
door opened and a homeless man stepped through.
Instead
of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers,
told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I
don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll
just go." "Not without something hot in your belly." George said.
He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the
stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it
myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh."
Just
at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be
right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy.
Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister can
you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is
with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad.
The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead. "You ain't
going in this thing," George said as he turned away.
"But
Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as
he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old
truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the
garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was
waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you
ever looked at, but she runs real good."
George helped put the
woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned
and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their
tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ." George thought he
was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on
the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he
got something in his belly," George thought.
George went back
outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it
started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He
thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Xmas Eve meant
no customers. He discovered the block hadn't cracked, it was just the
bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.
"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took
the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he
wasn't going to drive the car anyway.
As he was working, he
heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an
officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the
officer moaned, "Please help me."
George helped the officer
inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a
medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the
bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning
and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the
wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to
make the policeman feel at ease.
"Something for pain," George
thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to
work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You
hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance."
The phone
was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box
out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into
the dashboard destroying the two way radio.
He went back in to
find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could
have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."
George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the
Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to
check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right
through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think
with time your gonna be right as rain."
George got up and
poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked. "None for me,"
said the officer. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I
ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time.
The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a
gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand
was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like
this before.
"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.
"Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."
The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"
The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now."
He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Xmas Eve. If
you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now
put that pea shooter away."
George pulled $150 out of his
pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the
gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell
to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I
wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost
my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week."
George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze
now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the
best we can."
He got the young man to his feet, and sat him
down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things."
George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the
things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer.
Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."
The
young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot
you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer." "Shut up and drink your
coffee " the cop said. George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A
police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through
the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You OK?" one of the cops asked the wounded
officer.
"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"
"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.
Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."
George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other.
"That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."
The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"
Chuck just said, "Merry Xmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything."
"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems."
George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a
ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think
Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."
The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw.
"I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."
"And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need."
George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck
appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to
sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."
The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier.
"And what are you supposed to buy Xmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git home to your family."
The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here
in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."
"Nope. I'm closed Xmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."
George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?"
"I have been here." said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Xmas. Why?"
"Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the
bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine
tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by
myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."
The stranger
put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday,
George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and
hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great
doctor.
The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people
from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will
make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the spirit
of the season and you keep it as good as any man."
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