Legend of the Skimpiest Tree by Bob Sweeney

It is said that three evergreens, powdered with snow, stood chatting one day as to where they would go. When the Christmas tree cutters arriving that day, would come and trim them and take them away.

Said the largest of all, "I'll be placed in a school, or a church or a big office building this Yule!" and he sang with delight, never heeding the freeze of December winds puffing a mid-winter breeze.

Said the middle-sized tree, "I am destined to be in an elegant home where they're certain to see, that I'm tinseled and lighted and topped with a Star! and he smiled as he thought of a new home afar.

Now the skimpiest tree was so stunted and slight, that he moaned in dismay as he peered at the height, of his friends who were lost in their glittering dreams, and he wept for he knew he could plan no such schemes.

Well, the cutters arrived and the axes rand out, and the trees went their way, and I have little doubt; that the big tree was chosen for public display and the middle tree saved for some gala array.

But the skimpiest tree, small and stunted, tis said was sent to a small skimpy home near a bed - and there given a challenge it dared not to fail, for the bed held a lad who was sickly and pale.

It is told that the boy became healthy and strong, that the small skimpy house fairly echoed with song. As doctors proclaimed it a miracle case, as they looked at the little lads rosy-cheeked face.

But two knew the secret that neither would tell - how the tree had arrived and the boy had grown well. Yes, God knew it too, so that really makes three, with the small skimpy boy and his small skimpy tree!

The Little Loaf

Once, when there was a famine, a rich baker sent for twenty of the poorest children in the town and said to them, "In this basket there is a loaf for each of you. Take it, and come back to me every day till God sends us better times".

The hungry children gathered eagerly about the basket and quarreled for the bread, because each wished to have the largest loaf. At last they went away without even thanking the good man.

But Gretchen, a poorly dressed little girl, did not quarrel or struggle with the rest, but remained standing modestly a pace away. When the ill- behaved girls had left, she took the smallest loaf, which alone was left in the basket, kissed the man's hand, and went home.

The next day the children were as ill behaved as before, and poor, timid Gretchen received a loaf scarcely half the size of the one she got the first day. When she came home, and her mother cut the loaf open, many new, shining piece of silver fell out of it.

The mother was very much alarmed and said, "Take the money back to the good man at once. It must have got into the dough by accident. Go quickly Gretchen, go quickly!"

But when the little girl gave the rich man her mother's message, he said, "No, no my child, it was no mistake. I had the silver pieces put into the smallest loaf to reward you. Always be contented, peaceable, and as grateful as you are now. Go home now and tell your mother that the money is your own."

No Hands But Our Hands

Shortly after the culmination of the Second World War, a devastated city in England began its heartbreaking and weary work of restoration. In the old city square had stood a large statue of Jesus Christ with his hands outspread in an attitude of invitation. On the pedestal were carved the words, "Come unto me".

In the process of restoration of the statue, with the aid of master artists and sculptors, the figure eventually was reassembled, except for the hands, of which no fragments could be discovered anywhere in the surrounding rubble. Someone made the suggestion that the artists, since the former hands could not be found, would have to fashion new hands.

Later came a public protest, couched in the words, "No, leave Him without hands!". So today, in the public square of that English city, the restored statue of Christ stands without hands and at the base are carved the words, "Christ has no hands but ours!".

At this Christmas time, let's think of something we can do.