day 23

Here are the last two stories of the 25 days of Christmas. I hope you have enjoyed the messages shared and felt the spirit this holiday season. Merry Christmas!

"For behold, the time cometh and is not far distant, that with power the Lord Omnipotent who reigneth, who was, and is from all eternity; to all eternity, shall come down from heaven among the children of men, and shall dwell in the tabernacle of clay, and shall go forth amongst men, working mighty miracles...and he shall be called Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Father of heaven and earth, the creator of all things from the beginning..." (Mosiah 3:5-8)

The Gift of the Magi

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it.

When Della finished her cry, she attended to her cheeks with a powder puff. She stood by the window and looked out dully. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fin and rare and sterling--something just a bit near being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the looking glass. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let if fall into it's full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillinham Young's in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and grandfather's. The other was Della's hair.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. She did it up again nervously and quickly. She stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet. On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with a brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting.

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mess with a practiced hand.

"Give it to me quick." said Della.

Oh, the next two hours were rosy as she ransacked the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum watch-chain, simple in design, properly proclaiming it's value by substance alone and not by ornamentation-as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. Quietness and value-the description applied to both.

Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the eighty-seven cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap he used in place of the chain.

When Della reached home, she got out her curling irons and went to work. Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a school-boy. She looked at her relfection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me--But what could I do with a dollar and eighty-seven cents?"

Jim was never late. Della held the watch chain in her hand. She heard his steps on the stair and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit of saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please, God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two-and to be burdened with a family! He nodded a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim's eyes were fixed on Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her.

"Jim darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold it because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you wont mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say "Merry Christmas" Jim and let's be happy. You don't know what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, as he had not arrived at that fact yet.

"Cut if off and sold it," said Della, "Don't you like me just as well anyhow? I'm me without my hair, aren't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say yoru hair is gone?"

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold and gone, I tell you. Be good to me, for it went for you."

Out of his trance Jim seemed to quickly wake. He enfolded his Della in his arms.

Jim then drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going for a while at first."

White fingers tore at the string and paper, and then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to tears and wails, necessitating all of Jim's comforting powers.

For there lay The Combs-the set of combs that Della had wanted for so long. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell with jeweled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had yearned for them without the least hope of possession. And now they were hers--but the hair was gone.

She hugged them to her, and at length was able to look up with a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And then Della leaped up and cried, "Oh,oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her own bright spirit. "Isn't it a dandy, Jim?" I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have a look at the time a hundred times a day now, give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," he said, "Let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em awhile. They're too nice to use just now. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now, suppose you put dinner on."

Eight dollars a week or a million a year--What is the difference?

The Magi, as you know, were wise men-- who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the Mage.

"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6)

Twas the Night Before Jesus Came

Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house, not a creature was praying, not one in the house.

Their scriptures were lain on the shelf without care in hope that Jesus would not come there.

The children were dressing to crawl into bed not once ever kneeling or bowing a head. And Mom in her rocker with the babe on her lap, was watching the late show while I took a nap.

When out of the East there arose such a clatter, I sprange to my feet to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutter and threw up the sash.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.

With a light like the Sun sending forth a bright ray. I knew in a moment that this must be The Day!

The light of His face made me cover my head, it was Jesus returning just like he said, and though I posessed worldly wisdom and wealth I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.

In the Book of Life which He held in His hand, was written the name of every saved man. He spoke not a word as He searched for my name; when He said, "It's not here" my head hung in shame.

The peoples whose names had been written with care, He gathered to take to His Father above. With those who were ready, He rose without a sound, while the rest were left standing around.

I fell to my knees, but it was to late. I had waited to long and thus sealed my fate. I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight. Oh if only we had been ready tonight.

In the words of this poem, the meaning is clear, the coming of Jesus is drawing near. There's only one life and when comes that last call, we'll find that the scriptures were true after all.




Tonight is Christmas Eve. This night, please read from the scriptures the real Christmas story:

Luke 1:26-38, 46, 47

Luke 2:1-20

Matthew 2:1-14

MERRY CHRISTMAS