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Show Stay i 4a by Tom Griffiths The Reverend Horace Green-tree Green-tree had completed his Christmas Christ-mas sermon and the most reverent rever-ent gentleman felt within himself him-self that he had performed admirable. ad-mirable. Indeed, if the collection collec-tion box was any guide, he had dor.e very well. For. the total, after a large button and a foreign for-eign coin of no possible value , had been removed amounted to fifteen pounds, twelve shillings, and tuppence. A tidy sum indeed, in-deed, and so pleased was the good reverend that he did not even try to decide who had given the paltry sum of a tuppence. tup-pence. Out of the comer of his eye he had seen banker Matthews Matth-ews open his purse, but he could not be sure whether it was paper or a coin that he placed in the collection box. But that's the way it is with bankers, they put so much value on money. One of these days, mused Reverend Horace, I shall preach a sermon about the camel and the needle's nee-dle's eye, perhaps that will help to open wider the copious purse of Banker Matthews. The Reverend Horace had studied and rehearsed his sermon ser-mon until he knew it by heart. TpnH.'irKr ha tnM r-J RothlalkAm . He oecame very dramatic as ne described the life and mission of the carpenter, and when he told of the merchants and money changers being driven from the temple, he threw his arms with great gusto as if he himself were using a whip. Then he climxed his sermon with a . promise of exaltation for the righteous and for the wicked there would be eternal damnation. damna-tion. After the usual handshaking with his flock, and this was both a pleasant and an unpleasant , task, he would walk home. But tonight he waited patiently for his congregation to leave. To each one he gave a cheery , "Merry Christmas," and was very surprised when Banker Matthews replied with a "Happy New Year." But when .widow Mollie Shellabeer ap-: ap-: proached, the Reverend, being a bachelor of some forty odd years, became strangely excited. excit-ed. Somewhere in the good book there was a scripture that described his feelings, but at the moment he could not think what it was. For the widow in her early thirties was a delight to behold, even to the Reverend, who, just two years previous fnad laid her husband to rest with the final words, "Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust. " 1 Mollie only wore the mourning mourn-ing black for about a month, then she decided to display her nam. ju, line a 3iiuj wiuuuw that is all dressed up to catch the attention of possible shoppers, shop-pers, Mollie proceeded to decorate decor-ate her own shop. Now, the widow Mollie was not wicked, nor a conniving woman, but mother nature, when she designed her, just overdid it a bit. There was just enough of most things, and a bit more of others, and coupled with all her physical attraction was a warm, friendly personal charm. -; When she placed her hand in the Reverend's and said. "Reverend Greentree, your sermon ser-mon thrilled me through and through," he felt like Samson of old. Strong and manly. Then she looked up at him with eyes that were the color of heather of his native Scotland and said, "A Merry Christmas it is that I am wishing you, and should you be passing my home, you are invited to stop in. My puddings this year are the best I ever made, and with a drop of tea" - then her voice trailed away like the ending of a beautiful beauti-ful song. The Reverend watched hei walk away and somehow he thought of a sailing ship he once saw sailing on a sea of blue. Ah, Reverend Greentree, what an unruly parcel is the he1 of a man. He can study the scriptures, he can see the hand of his maker in the heather covered dunes, and hear the music of heaven in the breaking of waves on rocky shores, but when, a woman touches the strings of a man's heart, a little beastie with a scheming mind takes possession of him. Aye, and the song of the angels is sweeter, for God made man that way. . After the last of his congregation congrega-tion had left, the Parson started for home, and home to him was a little cottage on the outskirts of the village. As he walked along he thought of the widow Shellabeer' invitation to drop in for a taste of her Christmas pudding. He had tasted her puddings pud-dings before and no pudding in the village could compare with hers. She used real brandy for the base, and when she 'aid a large slice upon your plate, your mouth became a mountain stream overflowing with anticipation. antici-pation. There was something about her home, too, that attracted at-tracted Reverend Greentree. Perhaps it was the big sofa where two could sit together and look into the cheery fireplace. fire-place. Whenever he was there, ft 1!-.-,- ft W Mr if 1 he had the feeling that be would like to kick off his shoes, stretch his long legs in the direction of the fire and forget the world outside. Tomorrow evening, he thought, I shall visit her. Then as an after thought, just as her spiritual guide of course. But, the little beastie inside of the parson just chuckled. There was one sore spot in the life of Reverend Horace Greentree, Green-tree, and now as he approached it, anger filled his bosom. It was the Horse and Jockey pub where beer, ale, and other more or less powerful spirits were sold to mankind for the relief of worldly cares. Downstairs, and a little to the back of the building build-ing was a side door where many a wife could be seen entering, then a few minutes later, leaving leav-ing with a bottle tucked under her shawl. Now, as he came near to the premises, Sandy McTavish, the portly proprietor, opened the door and the yeasty aroma of ale smote the Reverend Rever-end smack in the face. For a moment he was tempted to cross to the other side of the street, but before the thought could materialize, he received a greeting from the genial Sandy. "Evening, Reverend, I'd like to wish ye a Merry Christmas." The Reverend acknowledged the greeting with a "Thanks, Sandy, and the same to you," and 3uid have hurried on, but Sandy spoke again. "!f ye'l excuse ex-cuse me Reverend, but I under stand Mr. Marston is a wee bit ill, and I would like to give him something to help him over Christmas. Wait just a tick and ri! get it. Before the Reverend could say anything, Sandy turned and hurried into the tavern. Reverend Greentree looked up and down the street like someone caught in a sin, and if anyone had approached, he would have hurried away. But he knew that Old Brother Marston who was a deacon in the church would not be here to celebrate another Christmas, and in his heart he felt a kindly appreciation toward the tavern keeper for his thoughtfulness. Sandy was only a minute when he returned with a basket that was covered over the top with a bit on newspaper. "It's a wee bottle of port for the old gentleman, and Reverend, if you will forgive a sinful old man, I put in a wee bottle for you, too." Reverend Horace, Greentree, pastor of a House of God, shepherd to a flock of God's children, was deeply touched. Through the Christmas air and into his heart came the words of he who was born in a stable, "it is more biased to give than to receive." This man was not a church goer, yet at this moment he must be counted among those that the master spoke of when he said, "Blessed are the meek." Then strange words fell from the mouth of Reverend Greentree. "God bless you, Sandy McTavish, and may the blessings of heaven be upon your house through Christmas and the New Year," Then with the basket under his arm, he f I EH' ?J " II Christmas is 4fV vjj. ." . i' I ..'jv . X 122 v.'.-"-r , 1 1 ' . . '- 'r J A v I . .. A .v fj j - ' f , . 1 U i J j, we 4 y li continued down the street. "This is Christmas Eve," lie said to himself, "and my heart is warm as a summer breeze because a man, a confessed sinner, sin-ner, gave a gift in humbleness." There would be other gifts from members of his flock, but this "wee bottle of port" told the whole story of Christmas. Had he looked behind, he would have seen the tavern keeper looking up to the sign of the Horse and Jockey, a serene look upon his face, " for this was the first Christmas, aye, the first time in his life that a blessing had been invoked upon his house. Reverend Greentree's first stop was at Decon Marston's. The old man was sitting in front of the fire, a robe over his lap. One could tell that the angel of death had knocked upon his door. After an exchange of greetings, he took a bottle of port from the basket and placed it on the table by the old man's side. "It's a Christmas gift from Sandy McTavish," he said. The old deacon looked up at him in surprise. In eyes that spoke" of death, there was firelight fire-light reflection. His voice was weak. "Reverend, I cannot take a gift from a tavern keeper. I am a deacon in your church and soon to cross over to the other side. "Take ' back, Reverend, take it back." Reverend Greentree reached under the paper in the basket and drew out the other bottle and set it upon the table. When he spoke, there was deep sincerity sincer-ity in his voice. "Deacon Marston, Mar-ston, you know that I am not a drinking man, even though a drop of port will not hurt a body, neither do I consort with tavern keepers. But, tonight I learned a lesson. A man confessed that he wao a sinner and desired to give a gift. No one told him to, he gave it because his heart is kind, because it is Christmas." He walked over to the deacon and placed his hand on his shoulder, "Brother Marston," he said, "tonight, for the first time in my ministry I found the LaSabre Ike and a warm holiday when families ytc share in festive prep- 1 arations . . . here's - .Zj hnnino vnnrs TA happiest ever. -V' v . ( i ...... . I 1. i : . 1 mm i Barratt Development Co. West Main American Fork 756-4044 tme meaning of the parable ef the lost sheep. AH of my time I have spent ministering to my flock, giving no thought to those who have left the pasiure and wandered a way. I have forgnt. ten that the master told me to leave the ninety and nine and go out and search for the one that is lost." The old man looked up with eyes that were moist, but thy were happy eyes. "Reverend," he said, "could you pou" fne a drop of the port, it will warm this old body." Reverend Greentree continued contin-ued on his way homeward, Somehow tonight his little house with hard wooden furniture held no attraction for him. He was lonely, too, and Christmas Eve is not the time for man to be alone. The light is Widow Mol-lie's Mol-lie's window was like a lighthouse lighth-ouse to a lonely ship and the Reverend, after hesitating for a moment, knocked on the door. When Mollie opened the door, her greeting was warm and gen-i gen-i uine. "Come in, Reverend Greentree, Green-tree, it's so glad I am to see you." He stepped into the warm, comfortable room and exper-ienced exper-ienced a feeling that must be akin to entering the pearly gates. The widow was wearing a frilly dress that spoke of womanhood, and in the case of Widow Mollie, lovely womanhood. woman-hood. "Sit down. Reverend, please. I have fresh tea made and the pudding is in the pantry." - He watched her as she poured the tea and sliced the Christmas pudding. The frilly curtains at the windows looked like fluffy clouds in the background. The firelight seemed to be telling a story of life, of the need of man for woman, and woman for man. Of an understanding creator crea-tor who made man in his own image, Mollie interrupted his thoughts. "Here is the tea, Reverend, and some pudding.'' He watched her pour tea, then she served the pudding' garnished gar-nished with a steaming sauce. She sat down by his side and except for the crackling of the logs in the fireplace, there was silence. The ; Reverend Greentree Green-tree had never known moments like these and he wondered if it was wrong to be so content in the presence of a woman. As if 9 Lounge Dora ft vw iK' -if JT 1 Is t 1 ff f reading his thoughts, the Widow Mollie iipoke to him. "Christmas is such a lovely time, Reverend, but it can be a loviely time, too." "Aye, Mollis," he answered. ing, and also a time of forgi ving. Rejoicing because a child was born in a manger, giving to the world the light of Christianity. Forgiving those who trespass against us." For a moment he stared into the fire, then he spoke to her again, "I, too, know the meaning mean-ing of loneliness, and man is not a complete man when he is 3lorie." He now felt the old excitement ex-citement returning, and for a moment, he forget that he was a minister and seized her hands in his. "Oh, Mollie," he said, "how glad I am that i am a man, and that I am here with you." Soon it came time for him to leave and for a moment he stood silently by the door. Then he said, "May I come again, Mollie? Not as your minister, but as a man courting a woman?" "1 shall be most happy, Reverend, to have you call," Then he was out on the street and homeward bound. His feet were light as bird wings, in his heart was love. At his door a group of carolers had gathered and were singing the praises of God. In the center of the group was Sandy McTavish singing his hearts content. The Reverend Horace Greentree joined the group. He put his arm around the tavern keeper's shoulder and echoing around the little village was the strains of "Peace on earth, and good will to aM men." If everyone swept m front ok his own house, the whole town would be clean. If all the crutches were laid end to end, there still wouldn't be enough for the lame excuses. Character is like windowglass - even a little crack shows clear through. Time lor merriment and tun, for family gatherings, for caroling . :. . lime to say thanks to all our customers and friends who make doing business such a pleasure. Lillies' Gift Shop : 1 5tl n si ill 1 Mi Christinas Bzlh byNida Hall Christmas Kelis are ringing "i ne trost is mine air The biue sky is full of silver stars With moonbeams everywhere. When children get together With Christmas carols to sing The melody so sweet and clear Singing praises to our King. In me'msry of the Christ Child Who in the manger lay. With angels singing softly As He slept upon the hay. Ring out loud bells, ring out And help to keep us free Take wickedness from off the earth And all iniquity. Ring out loirl bells, ring out And drive away ail fear So Itttle children may always sing ' With smiling faces dear. Children of the Lord in numbers Shout and praise Kim Glorious Glor-ious King Telling of His many wonders Hear their lovely voices ring. Hallelula sings the chorus Hsllelula to His name Rise and sing ye of all nations 'Till the Savior comes again. May peace reign on this troubled troub-led world And joy and love increase May all our banners be unfurled When wars and hate will cease. Spirit of Christmas by Nida Hall The Christian world is once again preparing to celebrate the birth of Christ. Kow do we, as Latter-day Saints prepare ourselves our-selves for the coming festivites? We should not only give gifts or expect to receive them, but we should give of ourselves by doing little deedi of kindness to those who need it. Christmas is a time for giving, a time for hope and a time for t Rekindle friendships . . . extend good tidings to all. To our loyal patrons greetings and thanks. Bradshaw Auto Parts American Fork Let's celebrate thin Christmas season with sincere wishes fcr s simpJy wonderful hciiday. To aU our friends and neighbors go many thanks fcr yoar continued patrcncsQ w.d gocdwrsSI. Personal Finance - Haycock Insurance 69 East Main - American Fork CHRISTMAS EDITION, joy. Every now and then we retvd to go some place or do to take ofi our shoes and stand on hoiy ground as did Moses. One of these occasions could be on Christmas Eve. We can plan our work so that all confusion is over and we are ready for the wonderful hour. Short visits io the lonely could do a lot of good. Sometimes the well-io-dw and the young are as lonely as the poor and the aged. Your smile and the giving of yourself will be like a sudden ray of sunfhine and a benediction to them. When you come Hscl. to your own hearth, read iroin tne ood Book about Heavenly Father's V Tin V J liStS M2S from us to you . . . with our thanks for letting us serve you. Happy Holidays to our friends! Brent's Barber SSiop 's 1 ' f t&tex ' i H M - V " 1 lather 'round the tree for song . Tuesday, December 24, IS74 handwriting in the sky when she Prince of Peace was bora. All children fove to hear Que story aS the birth oi the Christ Child, 'i he story never grows old. Then read the best known verse frem the New Testament, "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth In Him s'w;Ed no p"'. tut have everyhsting John 3: IS The trouble with jogging fs that by the time you realize Uut you are in no condition for it, you've got a long waik to get back. . . laughter. i I HMM 1 iMMMMMMMMBf tQUpMlHnn( WP) - . . |