stopped. âWe were just driving by and had to stop.â And then the prophetic words spoken straight from God, I now believe, âThatâs the point.â To notice the light and stop.
Amy Breitmann
Reprinted by permission of Jonny Hawkins. © 2007 Jonny Hawkins.
2
THROUGH
THE EYES OF
A CHILD
I f you canât accept anything on faith, you are doomed to a life dominated by doubt.
Kris Kringle, Miracle on 34th Street
Once a Year
T he only gift is a portion of thyself.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
âLindy,â the young boy whispered. His eager tug continued at her sleeve until his little sisterâs curly head turned on her pillow.
âLindy, wake up. Itâs Christmas.â The words were like cold water to the six-year-oldâs eyes, wakening her from a deep sleep. Sitting up, she blinked and peered around. It was still dark, but it was an unspoken rule that once you woke up after falling asleep, no matter the time, it was officially Christmas morning. So she pushed her blankets aside and let her other older brother take her by the hand and lead her to the staircase.
Although Lindy was the youngest of five children, this time with her brothers and sister was a secret delight of her own. For it was on this special day of the year that she was willingly included in their adventure. She smiled inwardly, her heart picking up its pace as anticipation set in. Each child would gasp when his or her name was on a particularly large present. With eager fingers, they would tear the many tiny packages their mother had painstakingly wrapped to fill their stockings.
The two middle boys giggled as they took turns sliding down the long, wooden banister.
âShh,â the oldest sister warned with a wide smile.
âYouâre going to wake up Mom and Dad.â She turned to Lindy, taking her other hand. âCome on, Lin.â
The warm fuzzies in Lindyâs stomach grew to near exploding. Willingly, she let her sister and brother take her down the orange carpeted stairs. If they only knew, she thought to herself, but she knew she would never tell them. Taken by the hand, escorted into their plans with excitement and such gentle care, was Lindyâs best Christmas gift ever.
Lindy B. Dolan
Christmas in the Heart of a Child
E very child comes with a message that
God is not yet discouraged of man.
Rabindranth Tagore
It was my turn at church to serve communion to the elderly people who canât make it to the church services. Kallie went with me, clinging to her Beanie Baby. She loved that doll more than anything!
We went to serve the first person on our list at a local nursing home. He was a kindly old gentleman named George. I had visited him before. He was pleasant and physically spry for his age. He seemed happy to see us. My daughter communicates well with the elderly. She immediately gave him a big hug (Beanie Baby and all). The smile on his face seemed to grow from the depths of his heart. There is nothing like the love of a little child to brighten oneâs day.
I asked George if he had any family around, and he said no. I asked him how he had been doing, to which he replied, âNot very well.â He said he just wasnât having a good day. However, George maintained a great attitude about his health, and he knew that God was in control. As
I glanced over at my daughter, I could see the sympathy in her eyes. It was the kind that only a child can feel in her somewhat limited understanding of an adult world, but a pure kind of sympathy that knows no age boundaries.
After I had served communion, we started saying our good-byes, but as he did the last time I visited him, George got up and said he would walk us out. He said it was good for him to get up and walk from time to time.
When we exited the building, he kept on walking through the courtyard with us, right to the gate out by the street. I shook his hand and thanked him for walking us out. He seemed grateful to have
Learning to Kill: Stories