December 14


A Pattern of Love by James Faust

At this Christmas season, let us take time to ponder the significance of the birth, the life, and the death of the Savior of the world. Of all the pronouncements in sacred or profane literature, the announcement of the angel to the shepherds keeping watch over their flock by night was highly significant:
“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10–11).
After 2,000 years, in many countries—indeed even in so-called Christian nations—we still have not only internal and external wars but also hunger and neglect. In the war in which my father served on the western front, in the stillness of Christmas Eve there wafted over the trenches to the ears of the American soldiers the soft sound of the voices of their enemy singing, “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht” (“Silent night! Holy night”; Hymns,no. 204). Their enemy in turn could hear the American soldiers singing, “Peace on earth, goodwill to men” (“Far, Far Away on Judea’s Plains,” Hymns, no. 212).
Twenty years later, in the war in which I served, the same area and the same enemies were involved. Although I did not serve on the western European front, on Christmas Eve the English and American soldiers could hear the Germans sing, “Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,” and the Germans could hear the Americans sing, “Peace on earth, goodwill to men.” Fortunately, our erstwhile enemies are now our friends.
You have heard it said that the Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and left untried.
At the heart of the message of the Savior of the world is a single, glorious, wonderful, still largely untried concept. In its simplest terms the message is that we should seek to overcome the selfishness we all seem to be born with, that we should overcome human nature and think of others before self. We should think of God and serve Him, and think of others and serve them.
It is not difficult to apply these principles in a familysetting, especially to our children. Parenting is good training to become good Christians; occasionally children think of their parents in that context. Years ago, Jack Smith told of a poignant story of two young boys at Christmastime.
“I didn’t question Timmy, age nine, or his seven-year-old brother, Billy, about the brown wrapping paper they passed back and forth between them as we visited each store.
“Every year at Christmastime, our Service Club takes the children from poor families in our town on a personally conducted shopping tour. I was assigned Timmy and Billy, whose father was out of work. After giving them the allotted $4.00 each, we began our trip. At different stores I made suggestions, but always their answer was a solemn shake of the head, no. Finally, I asked, ‘Where would you suggest we look?’
“‘Could we go to a shoe store, Sir?’ answered Timmy. ‘We’d like a pair of shoes for our Daddy so he can go to work.’
“In the shoe store the clerk asked what the boys wanted. Out came the brown paper. ‘We want a pair of work shoes to fit this foot,’ they said. Billy explained that it was a pattern of their Daddy’s foot. They had drawn it while he was asleep in a chair.
“The clerk held the paper against a measuring stick, then walked away. Soon, he came with an open box. ‘Will these do?’ he asked. Timmy and Billy handled the shoes with great eagerness. ‘How much do they cost?’ asked Billy. Then Timmy saw the price on the box. ‘They’re $16.95,’ he said in dismay. ‘We only have $8.00.’
“I looked at the clerk and he cleared his throat. ‘That’s the regular price,’ he said, ‘but they’re on sale; $3.98, today only.’ Then, with shoes happily in hand the boys bought gifts for their mother and two little sisters. Not once did they think of themselves.
“The day after Christmas the boys’ father stopped me on the street. The new shoes were on his feet, gratitudewas in his eyes. ‘I just thank Jesus for people who care,’ he said. ‘And I thank Jesus for your two sons,’ I replied. ‘They really taught me more about Christmas in one evening than I had learned in a lifetime.’” 1
I do not wish to conclude without expressing the hope that is within me that the teachings of the risen Christ can be extended beyond family, to friends and neighbors, communities, states, and nations.
For many years I practiced law with a fine Christian gentleman who was not of our faith. He was a man of humble origins whose family had not long been in this country. By hard work and faith, he worked his way through school and became successful and wealthy. But he never lost his interest in and compassion for the poor of all faiths. At Thanksgiving and Christmas, he would take his family, load up the car with turkeys and groceries of all kinds, and go to the poorer sections of the city, where he would personally deliver food to the poor.
He would enlist my help in contacting bishops who lived in the less-affluent areas to identify people of our own faith who might be in need. Year after year he did this without any thought of recognition. He literally fulfilled the Lord’s admonition in the Doctrine and Covenants to “remember in all things the poor and the needy, the sick and the afflicted,” for, as that verse continues, “he that doeth not these things, the same is not my disciple” (D&C 52:40).
I leave you the witness of my soul that Jesus lives, that He loves us, that He is our redeeming Savior. This witness has come through the assurance of the Holy Spirit. It has come richly and fully and without reservations or doubts.
Scripture: 2 Nephi 25:10,26
Carol: "O Holy Night"

December 13

BETHANN’S CHRISTMAS PRAYER


By Marilyn Morgan Helleberg
“Put that doll down!” growled Mrs. Skorp, owner of Willow Creek’s only store. “You’ll break her!”
“Oh no,” said Bethann. “I wouldn’t hurt her. I love her!”
“Love her, do you?” Well, you’d better get over that in a hurry.” Mrs. Skorp whisked the doll out of Bethann’s arms. “That’s the most expensive doll in the store, and with your dad laid off.”
“It’s o.k.,” said Bethann, her wistful brown eyes scanning the drawn face of the middle-aged shopkeeper. “I won’t touch her again until she’s mine. She’s my Christmas prayer!”
“Oh? I suppose you’ve been talking to Jesus again?”
“Why, yes! I have!” Bethann’s pale, plain looking face took on a sudden glow. “Last night, I talked to Him a long time – and when I went to sleep an ange1 with golden wings floated down on a cloud and told me I could have one Christmas prayer answered this year. I could have anything I asked for – but only one thing. I’ve asked for Betsy.”
“Betsy!”
“Yes, that’s what I’ve named her.”
Mrs. Skorp tossed her hands over her head and walked away. “Angels now!” she muttered.
By the time she got home, Bethann was near to tears. “I can’t stand her, Mommie! Mrs. Skorp is the meanest lady in the whole world!”
“Don’t be too hard on her, dear,” said her mother. “Mrs. Skorp used to be a very nice lady before the accident.”
“The accident?”
“Yes. It was before you were born. The Skorps were driving home from Kansas City, after spending Christmas with relatives, when they hit a patch of ice and went off the road. Mr. Skorp was killed instantly, and their baby daughter died a couple of days later. Mrs. Skorp wasn’t even hurt – at least, her body wasn’t.”
“I didn’t even know she had a baby,” said Bethann, fingering the hem of her skirt.
“After that, Mrs. Skorp just kind of dried up. She stopped going anywhere, closed herself off from everybody, even quit going to church. Some say she’s been mad at God ever since.”
“I’ve never heard of anyone being mad at God,” said Bethann.
At bedtime, she knelt down and started talking with her Friend. “Lord, You know Mrs. Skorp, – the one with the pinched up face and the screechy voice? You probably haven’t heard from her lately because, well, I guess she’s been mad at You for a long time. Anyway, Jesus, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve figured out a way to get her over being mad at You. So if You don’t mind, I’d like to take back that Christmas prayer for my Betsy doll. Instead, Lord, would You please send Mrs. Skorp a new baby girl? Then maybe she won’t be mad at You anymore. Thank You, Jesus.”
After school the next day, Bethann stopped at the store again, only this time, she was very careful to not even look at Betsy.
“Mrs. Skorp, I talked to Jesus again last night. . .” The tall, gaunt lady grunted and turned away, but Bethann continued. “I asked Him to give you a new baby girl.”
“You WHAT?!” said Mrs. Skorp, wheeling around. “You really have lost your senses! Besides, if there is a God, He sure doesn’t answer prayers. Now you get home!”
On the day before Christmas, Bethann made a paper card for Mrs. Skorp. The shopkeeper was alone in the store when Bethann tiptoed in. The woman was staring at a framed picture, clutching it so tightly Bethann saw that her knuckles were white.
“I brought you a Christmas card, Mrs. Skorp.” Surprised, the woman laid the picture on the counter and reached for the card. She opened it and read the childish scrawl: “Jesus loves you. And so do I. Bethann.”
Mrs. Skorp coughed and turned away. That was when Bethann sneaked a look at the picture on the counter. She saw a beautiful, smiling young woman holding a curly haired baby in her arms.
“Is that your baby that died?” asked Bethann.
Mrs. Skorp slumped into the old library chair and put her head in her hands. Her name was Betsy,” she said. Bethann stared at her. The woman’s body began to shake as deep, low sobs poured out of her. The little girl tiptoed over and put her hand timidly on Mrs. Skorp’s knee.
“I asked Jesus to send you a new little girl to love,” said Bethann. “Are you crying because He didn’t answer my prayer?”
“No,” said Mrs. Skorp. She scooped Bethann up into her lap, pressing the little head close to her heart and rocking back and forth, back and forth, in the straight chair.
“No, my little. . . darling. “I’m crying because. . .because He did.”

Scripture:

The words of Nephi, the son of Lehi, toward the end of his record:
“For according to the words of the prophets, the Messiah cometh in six hundred years from the time that my father left Jerusalem; and according to the words of the prophets, and also the word of the angel of God, his name shall be Jesus Christ, the Son of God . . . And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.” (2 Nephi 25:19, 26)

Carol: "O Holy Night"

December 12


The C-C-Choir Boy

By Fred BauerEveryone was surprised- everyone except Mrs. Brown, the choir director—when Herbie showed up in November to rehearse for the church’s annual Christmas cantata.
Mrs. Brown wasn’t surprised because she had persuaded Herbie to “at least try.” That was an accomplishment, for lately he had quit trying nearly everything—reciting in class, playing ball or even asking his brothers or sisters to pass the potatoes.
It was easy to understand: He stuttered. Not just a little, either, and sometimes when his tongue spun on a word, like a car on ice, the kids laughed. Not a big ha-ha laugh, but you can tell when people are laughing at you even if you’re only nine.
Mrs. Brown had figured Herbie could sing with the other tenors—Charley and Billy—and not have any trouble, which is exactly the way it worked. Billy was given the only boy’s solo and the rest of the time the three of them sang in unison, until Charley contracted the measles. Even so, Billy had a strong voice and Herbie knew he could follow him.
At 7:15, the night of the cantata, a scrubbed and combed Herbie arrived at church, wearing a white shirt, a new blue and yellow bow tie and his only suit, a brown one with high-water pant legs. Mrs. Brown was waiting for him at the door.
“Billy is home in bed with the flu,” she said. “You’ll have to sing the solo.” Herbie’s thin face grew pale.
“I c-c-can’t,” he answered.
“We need you,” Mrs. Brown insisted.
It was unfair. He wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t make him. All of these thoughts tumbled through Herbies mind until Mrs. Brown told him this:
“Herbie, I know you can do this—with God’s help. Across from the choir loft is a stained-glass window showing the manger scene. When you sing the solo, I want you to sing it only to the Baby Jesus. Forget that there is anyone else present. Don’t even glance at the audience.” She looked at her watch. It was time for the program to begin.
“Will you do it?”
Herbie studied his shoes.
“I’ll t-t-try,” he finally answered in a whisper.
A long 20 minutes later, it came time for Herbie’s solo. Intently, he studied the stained-glass window. Mrs. Brown nodded, and he opened his mouth, but at that exact instant someone in the congregation coughed.
“H-H-Hallelujah,” he stammered. Mrs. Brown stopped playing and started over. Again Herbie fixed his eyes on the Christ Child. Again he sang.
“Hallelujah, the Lord is born,” his voice rang out, clear and confident. And the rest of his solo was just as perfect.
After the program, Herbie slipped into his coat and darted out the back door—so fast that Mrs. Brown had to run to catch him. From the top of the steps, she called, “Herbie, you were wonderful. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Brown,” he sh
outed back. Then turning, he raced off into the night through ankle-deep snow—with-out boots. But then he didn’t really need them. His feet weren’t touching the ground.
The End


From the vision of Nephi, the son of Lehi:

“And it came to pass that I looked and beheld the great city of Jerusalem, and also other cities. And I beheld the city of Nazareth; and in the city of Nazareth I beheld a virgin, and she was exceedingly fair and white. 

“And it came to pass that I saw the heavens open; and an angel came down and stood before me; and he said unto me: ‘Nephi, what beholdest thou?’ And I said unto him: ‘A virgin, most beautiful and fair above all other virgins.’ Ad he said unto me: ‘Knowest thou the condescension of God?’  And I said unto him: I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things. And he said unto me: ‘Behold, the virgin whom thou seest is the mother of the Son of God, after the manner of the flesh.’

“And it came to pass that I beheld that she was carried away in the Spirit; and after she had been carried away in the Spirit for the space of a time the angel spake unto me, saying: ‘Look!’  And I looked and beheld the virgin again, bearing a child in her arms.  And the angel said unto me: ‘Behold the Lamb of God, yea, even the Son of the Eternal Father!’” (1 Nephi 11:13–21)

Carol: "What Child is This"

December 11

 “The Christmas Gift” by Hugh Oliver (in The Oxford Book of Christmas Stories)

Nephi, writing of the words of Lehi, which he gave to his family while traveling in the wilderness:


“Yea, even six hundred years from the time that my father left Jerusalem, a prophet would the Lord God raise up among the Jews—even a Messiah, or, in other words, a Savior of the world.  And he also spake concerning the prophets, how great a number had testified of these things, concerning this Messiah, of whom he had spoken, or this Redeemer of the world.”  (1 Nephi 10:4–5)




Carol: "God Rest You Merry Gentlemen”




December 10

Keeping Baby Warm

by Lynda H Laughlin

It was an inexpensive dime store Nativity set, and he was only three years old. His back was toward me, but I could see that his chubby little hands were busily working on something at the old table.

"What are you doing?" I asked him impatiently, annoyed at him for touching the decorations after he had been told not to. As I started toward the scene of this latest mischief, he turned toward me with wide blue eyes filling and a single tear starting down his cherubic cheek. Then I saw it. A carefully folded tissue had been tenderly placed over the small ceramic infant.

"Baby Jesus was cold, Mommy," he whispered. Ten years have passed, and the tiny Nativity has been replaced by a much larger one. But this year, as every year, I found a carefully folded tissue covering the baby Jesus. I think I know who did it, and I hope he never stops.

Scripture:
Jeremiah 23:5-6
Jeremiah 33:14-15

Carol: "Far, Far Away on Judea's Plains"

December 9


Mr. Jinks Hands Out The Holly


David had just finished making a snowman. He was very large and round with the jolliest face ever. He wore a high hat and a red plaid muffler, although, why any snowman should want a muffler, David didn’t quite know. He only knew that it seemed to suit Mr. Jinks.

Of course his name was Mr. Jinks because that was what David named every snowman he had ever made. He had made several—three this very winter, but not one of them had seemed as handsome and jolly looking as the present Mr. Jinks.

“I’m glad that you’re close to the sidewalk,” David told him, “because you look as if you were wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.”

He had just added another coal button when the parcel-post truck drove up and the driver carried a huge box into the house. “I’ll bet that’s the holly Grandpa sent from Oregon, “ David called, following the man into the house.

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” replied his mother. When they had opened the box she said, “there’s an extra lot this year. We can make wreaths for every one of the front windows.”

David helped, and when all the wreaths had been made, there was a large basket of small pieces left over.

“I wonder what we can do with these,” David’s mother asked? “They are much too pretty to be thrown away.”

“I know!” cried David. “I’ll let Mr. Jinks give them away. He can help make a merry Christmas for everyone who passes.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Mother agreed. “And I’m sure that Mr. Jinks will think so too.”

First, David made a sign which read “Merry Christmas. Help yourself.” Then he took the basket of holly out and propped it up in front of the snowman. After that he stood in one of the front windows to watch the people pass. 

Mr. Bromley, the banker, was the first one to come by. He was walking very fast and looking straight ahead. David was very much afraid that Mr. Bromley was going to pass right by without so much as a glance. 

But no, he saw the sign and stopped long enough to put a sprig of holly in his button hole. David could see a smile on the banker’s face and he couldn’t remember ever having seen him smile before. David quickly reminded himself that he didn’t see Mr. Bromley very often and that maybe it worried him to have so much money in the bank that belonged to other people. 

Next came Mrs. Ross, who worked in the bakery. She was walking slowly, as if she was very tired. “I guess that she has been making hundreds of fruit cakes, “ said David to himself. When she noticed Mr. Jinks’ smiling face, she smiled back and took a sprig of holly. Then she walked along as if she weren’t nearly so tired. 

Some boys with ice skates came next. They each took some holly and called to the snowman, “Thanks, old fellow. A Merry Christmas to you, too”

David watched people go by until it grew too dark for him to see any longer. “Mr. Jinks sure made a merry Christmas for a lot of people,” he said to his mother.

“So he did,” she smiled. “With the help of you and Grandpa”


Scripture:

 Micah 5:2 "But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though  thou be little among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from everlasting."

Carol: "O Little Town of Bethlehem"

December 8

A Brother Like That - Author Unknown

A man named Paul received an automobile from his brother as a Christmas present. On Christmas Eve when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shining new car admiring it. "Is this your car, Mister?" he asked.
Paul nodded. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas." The boy was astounded. "You mean your brother gave it to you and it didn't cost you nothing? Boy, I wish…" He hesitated.
Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what this lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels.
"I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."
Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added, "Would you like to take a ride in my automobile?"
"Oh yes, I'd love that." After a short ride, the boy turned with his eyes aglow and said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front of my house?"
Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbors that he could ride home in a big automobile. But Paul was wrong again. "Will you stop where those two steps are?" the boy asked.
He ran up the steps. Then in a little while Paul heard him coming back,  but he was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car.
"There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas and it didn't cost him a cent. And someday I'm gonna give you one just like it…and you can see for yourself all the pretty things in the Christmas windows that I've been trying to tell you about."
Paul got out and lifted the lad into the front seat of his car. The shining-eyed older brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a memorable holiday ride.
That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when he had said: "It's more blessed to give…"

Scripture:
Isaiah 40:1-5 "Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned; for she hath received of the Lord's hand double for all her sins. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low; and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain: And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all fresh shall see it together; for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.
Carol: "Hark, The Herald Angels Sing"