Luke 2:14 - Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Luke 2:14: Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good 
will toward men.  

Special Christmas Story - Devotional


The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas 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 Christmas, 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.  

Christmas 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 

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 Christmas 
Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I 
got. Now put that pee 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 
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 

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 Christmas 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 
Christmas 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 Christmas 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. I have 
always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate 
Christmas. 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." George was taken aback by all this stranger had said.  

"And how do you know all this?" asked the old man. 

"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of 
thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again."  

The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, 
George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big 
celebration planned."  

George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that 
the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light 
began to fill the room.  

"You see, George .... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas." George 
fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord."  [source