Conversations with God

Conversations with God


Christmas at the gas station

It’s a story, yes. But I love it. And it’s perfect for today. So enjoy it. And have a very Merry Christmas…
My friend Will Richardson sent this to me. He never tells me where he gets them. I mean, who the author is. He just finds them somewhere on the Internet and passes them along. I am going to do the same, with apologies to the author for not providing credit…although I somehow don’t think the author will mind…
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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 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 ambulance.”
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 pea 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 t hen. 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 man.
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 job..”
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’s mouth dropped. And the man…well, the man just clean disappeared.
Merry Christmas!!



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Comments read comments(19)
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Linda

posted December 24, 2008 at 3:49 pm


Neale,
What a wonderful Christmas gift you have posted here.
Thank you,
Linda



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Matt

posted December 24, 2008 at 4:43 pm


It’s becoming more obvious to me as I experience more of this life, that real gifts are not the tangible packages we are given. A Gift is something that touches our hearts and leads us to change our outlook or way of behavior. Your Christmas stories are truly a gift. There’s no doubt in my mind that the author of this story has been touched by the Lord Jesus at some point in his or her life. I pray that each of us stays open to the presence and love of Christ this Christmas season.
In Him, Matt



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Mark

posted December 24, 2008 at 6:31 pm


Beautiful story…many blessings to one and all…all is one…thank you for so many wonderful heartfelt messages…god bless!



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Birds Birdie

posted December 24, 2008 at 6:34 pm


Hmmmm…
O.k. Tears.
That was such a beautiful story!
I think I love George…
lol…
Thank you Neale, for the first time this christmas season, celebrating the man whom this holiday is for. He is the most beautiful person I know! Thank you for recognizing Him… It touched my heart deeply. We may not be the big Guy, but being human brings us one step further. Doesn’t it? (gentle smile)
I wish a stranger would stop by…
In time I suppose…
love always



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AM

posted December 24, 2008 at 7:14 pm


Thank you Neale for your generosity in sharing Love & Light all the year through!
Merry Christmas!
AM
http://maiie.multiply.com/reviews



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eleonore

posted December 24, 2008 at 8:04 pm


Thank you, Neale, for this wonderful story. May we all experience the Christ in us and everyone. Merry Christmas.May we carry the Christmas spirit with usw always, Eleonore



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karma0

posted December 24, 2008 at 8:38 pm


The spirit of the season be with you all through out the years. Not just this time of year… Happy Holidays.. I have heard that story before and it always touches me. Yes we should alway do good for the sake of doing its the human connection….



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karma0

posted December 24, 2008 at 8:40 pm


Merry Christmas Neale and a Happy New Year!



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Birds Birdie

posted December 24, 2008 at 8:48 pm


Oh Man AM, that link just bursted my bubble. lol…
I suppose my hopes are that one day all will recognize that indeed the Christians stand steadfast for purpose, for reason that is known deep within the heart of all Christians; that it is true He will return in His in honor and infinite universal glory to bring the peace this world desires. For while the spirit of God resides within us all, He alone is a real individual. And the one that will bring the peace all mankind desire.
I have to consider my own life path; for it is that we may only live one life at a time. As a young adult, the teacher that showed me things of the universal spirit, would later reveal to me the reason for this life – to simply honor one real God. She never matter of factly told me such things. She would tell the story and allow my spirit to discover the truths within it.
One night I called her in a state of perplexity, feeling empty and misguided. Being catholic yet deeply spiritual, she began to relay what she knew of my past life; in which for my purpose of understanding a stranger spoke the same words just a year before. She told me the past life entailed that I was a queen. Yes, I know… everyone believes themselves important in past lifes. However, it is not in me to think such things for I could never consider myself of such worth. It is beyond me to desire. However, she told me that I was a queen of a stature wherein I was considered a God, but wasn’t. That people would kneel upon my entrance. This in itself was deeply uncomfortable because of my lack of desire for such. She then told me that I was killed by my own family member, as they desired my position. There was much more than this, however it is not essential to these parts.
I realize now, in this lifetime as we only live one life at a time, that I passed on from that life for a very simple reason – I honored myself as God or as the savior, instead of honoring the real and true savior. And in this life, it is meant that I straighten my path by honoring one God, one savior, one creator – no matter if it is my dreams that urged Him to bring me here and give me life… It is simply a life worth of experience to recognize Him, believe in Him, and know that because of Him, my dreams are made real, when I do these things.
This season is not about the Christ within, it is simply for honoring Christ.
My hope and prayer Neale, is that you come to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, who will create all that you wish this world to be.
Please have a merry christmas…
And I say to my brother and my father – I’m walking home brother, and calling your sheep with me, for I am forever yours, and all glory is to be given to God. Please meet here, half way in this place, for the eternal life and exaltation that I know is to be had because of, and through You… For all days of my life through all eternities, I will walk according to Your will, and always for the better interest of the universes at your hand.
Love always your faithful servant,
Laon



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buen

posted December 24, 2008 at 8:51 pm


nice story! had to hold back the tears. =)
Merry xmas and thanks for the wonderful post!



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Birds Birdie

posted December 24, 2008 at 10:13 pm


Working relaxazadaisidly for tomorrow…
I will have you consider something Neale…
While your initials stand for New Day World, in which the New age offers the last and final glimpse of Gods reality…
Mine stand for Last Delivery Date…
Wherein Christ claims His glory.
B.C.
A.D.D.
L.D.D.
sweet thoughts to ponder…
love for ALL, including Christ, first.



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...being here, doing this...

posted December 25, 2008 at 1:05 am


In his previous blog post, Neale wrote: “Now, the Magic of Christmas is that it gives us permission to take that feeling, to take that love, and share it with all those whose lives we touch.
With friend, and with stranger.
With those who agree with us, and with those who disagree.
With those who look and act like us, and with those who do not.
We are invited tonight to feel this love, and to give it permanent place within our heart. To be the source of peace on Earth, and goodwill toward men and women everywhere.
We are invited on this night to walk the Earth not only as one who is BLESSED, but as one who is bless├ęd. Not only as the Lord of the manner, but in the manner of the Lord.”

How beautifully does today’s story bring these words to life!!
I love it!
bhdt



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Michelle

posted December 25, 2008 at 3:50 am


Thank you, Neale, for this beautiful story (for which I could not even begin to hold back the tears!) I loved it so much that I sent it to my loved ones.
What a perfect message for this most holy time of year–the house of Christ is a house of One! How glorious is that?!!! And, what is more, this house lies within us all!
Merry Christmas everyone!
Love and Peace,
Michelle
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qedoxGdmXuo&feature=related



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George

posted December 25, 2008 at 10:09 am


Buen,
Why do you need to hold back tears? They are tears of joy, correct?
A beautiful Christmas to all. Thank you for being in my life.
George



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Deb Reilly

posted December 25, 2008 at 11:48 am


Like George at the gas station, may we all have the patience and love to turn adversity into jewels of kindness. I’m grateful for all of you.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful selves with me. Isn’t it amazing that we open our hearts to people who’s hands we will never hold, but who’s tears we share.
God is blessing all of us, every day.



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Cherlyn

posted December 25, 2008 at 6:54 pm


Thank you Neale for this piece. You see after my son was murdered in Jan, 2005 – I just sort of stopped living – I mean I go thru the motions, but it isn’t the same — even though he was 29 – there are no calls, no letters, no cards – I have another grown child but we are as different as black and white – and after my son died, I thought we would grow closer – but that hasn’t been the case.
But all of us deal with death and loss in different ways. But this man reminds me of what I feel – yet somehow in the midst I want to believe that Jesus is right here with me loving me through it all.
I’ve got to stop writing now – can’t stop the tears.
thanks again Neale and God bless you. Cherlyn



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WB

posted December 26, 2008 at 3:32 am

L@urie

posted December 26, 2008 at 11:17 pm


I hope that I can always find the George (and God) in myself. This story touched my heart. Happy Holidays my dear friend!
Warmest Regards…



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Your Name

posted January 3, 2009 at 1:32 pm


I read this story about a Year ago and I was Just Reading the Story and I always enjoy it. had lost part of it and was looking to see if I could find it and wow I found it and I made a copy and saved it to my computer so that I could print it out later. hope you had a very Merry Christmas….



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