Players sit in a circle, facing each other. The youngest person starts the game. He/she says any sentence beginning with the letter A that has to do with Christmas, like: "Angels were singing".

The person to their left now has to respond to this by starting another sentence with the letter B, like: "Because Jesus was born."

You must try to start as soon as the first person finishes their sentence. The players continue like this going through all the letters of the alphabet.

Someone is out of the game when they take too long to say their sentence, or they start with the wrong letter.

When you get to the end of the alphabet you start over again. Keep going until there is just one person left. He/she is the winner!

Story-Story
Have a person from the group fill two separate bags full of the same items. Example: string, apple, dice, a hanger, toothpaste, a shoe, or a magazine. The more items there are, the harder the game gets!

Split the rest of the group into 2 teams. Give each group one of the filled bags.

Each group goes to a different room, so they can't hear the other team.

Each team makes up a wild story, or play using EVERY item in the bag.

Then when both teams are done, each team takes turns telling/performing their crazy and mixed up stories to the other team.

PASS A HAT
The players are in 2 circles: inner one and outer one. One player in each circle has a hat on his/her head. The object is to pass the hat round the circle. But the players mustn't use their hands while passing the hat from head to head. The team that passes the hat round the circle the first wins the game.

Bubble Burst
Roll out the desired length of Bubble Packing. The first kid to walk the entire length of Bubble Packing without bursting a bubble wins a prize. Eventually someone makes it, but it sure is fun watching all the creative ways kids will try to outsmart physics.

CANDY GAME
Buy about 20 candy bars (different kinds).  Put them in a pile in the middle of a circle of chairs so everyone can see them.  Put a pair of dice in a pie plate. If you want the game to move faster or if you have a big group, use 2 pie plates with dice in them.  Play:  everyone shakes the dice into the pie plate.  If you roll a double 7, or 11, you choose a candy bar from the pile or take a candy bar from whoever has the one you want.  Put the candy bar under your chair so everyone can see it.  When all the candy is gone from the pile, set the timer for 10 minutes (or however long you think everyone will stay interested. When the timer rings, whatever candy you have is what you get.  Some people go home with many bars, and some go home empty handed.

M&M Dice Game
You’ll need a serving spoon, M&M’s, a large bowl, pair of dice and a shoebox top.  Everyone sits in a circle.

Fill the bowl with M&M’s.  Place the spoon in the bowl.  Pick a person to start and hand them the bowl.  To the person on their left, hand the dice and the box top.  On your mark, the person with the dice starts rolling.  The person with the M&M’s starts shoveling them into their mouth as fast as they can.  As soon as the dice roller hits doubles, the M&M’s get passed to them, and the dice are passed to the next person.  This goes on and on until the people in the circle are sick or out of M&M’s.

EYES WIDE SHUT
With thick mittens on, try to guess what object you hold.

CHRISTMAS CAROL CHARADES
Make a list of Christmas carols that would be easy to act out.  Cut the list into slips and put in a hat or jar. Each team has 45 seconds to act and figure out the title of the song.

Grind figs in meat grinder.  Mix with all other ingredients except eggs.  Beat egg yolks and egg whites separately.  Stir in yolks, then fold in whites at the last.  Thouroughly grease 5  1 pound cans and fill 2/3 full.  Steam for 3 hours.

Mom's Christmas Coffee Cake
Martie Mullenbach

1 - 3 oz. Package cream cheese
¼ c. margarine or butter
2 c. biscuit mix or Bisquick
¼ c. milk
½ can pie filling of your choice
¼ - ½ c. chopped pecans (optional)

Cut cream cheese and margarine into biscuit mix till crumbly.  Add milk; stir until mixed. On lightly floured surface, knead dough 10 - 12 strokes.  On waxed paper, roll or pat dough into a 12 x 8 inch rectangle.  Invert onto greased baking sheet; remove paper.  Spread filling down center of dough.  Make 2 ½ inch cuts from long sides toward center at 1 inch intervals.  Fold strips over filling and pinch in center.  Bake at 375 degrees for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden.  FREEZE at this point.  When thawed, drizzle with Powdered Sugar Glaze.  Serves 12.

Powdered Sugar Glaze
In a bowl stir together ½ c. sifter powdered sugar, ¼ tsp. Vanilla and enough milk to make of drizzling consistency (1 - 2 teaspoons).  If using peach filling, add ¼ tsp. Almond flavoring to glaze mix and a little less milk.

Biscuit Mix
(Cheap and easy substitute for Bisquick!)

10 c. all-purpose flour
1/3 c. baking powder
¼ c. sugar
2 tsp. salt
2 c. shortening

In a bowl, stir together flour, baking powder, sugar and salt.  Cut in shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.  Store in an airtight container for up to six weeks at room temperature or for up to six months in the freezer.

Natural gift-wrap
Materials:

• Plain brown packaging wrap
• Assorted ribbons or twine
• Dried orange slices, cinnamon, etc.
• Hot glue gun
• Glue sticks
• Scissors

• Wrap gift with brown packaging wrap.
• Decorate the package with ribbon or twine and tie a bow or knot on the top. Always cut ribbon on an angle to prevent fraying.
• Arrange dried orange slices on the top of the package. Once you have determined the design, glue orange slices into place.
• In addition to dried orange slices, you can try other dried fruits, nuts, spices, ferns, fresh leaves and flowers.

Mix ingredients and PLAY!  One the items are sculpted, place on a cookie sheet and bake at 350 degrees until it is dry, but not brown.  Baking time will vary depending on the size of the sculpture.  Let it cool before painting.

Sand Clay
This one bakes really hard and the texture is different than most.

Mix one cup of fine sand and 1/2 cup of cornstarch in the top of a double boiler.  Add 1/2 cup of boiling water and stir well.  Cook the mixture briefly until it thickens...you may need to add a bit of water if the mixture is too thick..it depends on the consistency of the sand.  Cool the cooked clay, then mold...bake at 275 degrees until very dry (time varies with the size of object)  This can also be air dried for several days. When dry, it can be painted or decorated.

Crayon Cookies
Remove paper from broken crayons and make sure they are in pieces under ½”.  Fill baking tins halfway with a variety of different colored crayons.  Use muffin tins or small holiday baking molds such as Christmas trees, etc..  Bake in the oven at the lowest temperature for 10 – 15 minutes.  Remove from the oven just before the crayons liquefy.  Allow to cool before removing from tin.

Option #1 – Line a cookie sheet with wax paper and spread broken crayons on it.  Use enough to cover the bottom of the cookie sheet.  Bake at lowest temp, jut to the point of liquefying.  Cool slightly, and cut shapes with holiday appropriate cookie cutters. Cool completely and remove from sheet.  Re-use scraps for the next batch!

Option #2 –  Remove labels from and clean cans from vegetables or fruit.  Place in pan of water.  Fill can with broken crayons of the same color.  Boil water over medium heat and cook until crayons become liquid.  Pour melted crayons into lightly-greased Jello-Jigglers molds, lollipop molds, or any other creative shape mold you have.  Allow to cool and pop out.

Stories/Poetry
Download 45 pages of Christmas Stories - ZIP
Download the DOC file
Download the PDF file

AN EXPRESSION OF CHRISTMAS
By Dee Ann Ludwig

The very words, "Merry Christmas" bring pleasant memories.
I remember the music and it speaks faith to me.
I recall the sights and saunds and feel hope.
I remember the magic and meaning for the little ones.
I recall the many, many expressions of love.
I muse that it comes only ance a year.....but then my soul cries out;
Christmas is not a moment of eternity, but a measure of forever
Christmas is Christ's message of salvation to mankind
Christmas is a beautiful reminder of what has been and a solemn rejoicing in what will be
Christmas is the time to make certain our lives reflect the teachings of our Saviour!

A Child's Nativity
It was an inexpensive dime-store Nativity set, and he was only three years old. His back was toward me, but I could see that his chubby little hands were busily working on something at the old table.

"What are you doing?" I asked impatiently, annoyed at him for touching the decorations after he had been told not to. As I started toward the scene of his latest mischief, he turned toward me with wide blue eyes filling and a single tear starting down his cherubic cheek.

Then I saw it. A carefully folded tissue had been tenderly placed over the small ceramic infant. "Baby Jesus was cold, Mommy." he whispered.

Ten years have passed, and the tiny Nativity has been replaced by a much larger one. But this year, as every year, I found a carefully folded tissue covering the baby Jesus. I think I know who did it, and I hope he never stops.

Tonight He Is Yours
By Leatha Wade Slagowski

Tonight He is yours, Mary
For this is the hour of His birth
Count His little toes, one by one
A million mothers have counted newborn baby toes
Softly squeeze His baby feet
Tomorrow, He will walk the shores of Galilee
And there's a long, hard hill ahead to climb called Calvary
But tonight He is yours.

Marvel at each tiny fingernail
As He curls his little fingers around your own
Out in the darkness of the night
The deaf, the sick and blind await His touch
But tonight His little hands are yours alone

Tenderly trace the outline of His lips
And smile at His open, searching little mouth
Tomorrow flow the words of life eternal
His people need the story of the lilies
But baby lips were meant to be caressed
Gently stroke his silken baby hair
And kiss His soft, warm baby cheek
Tomorrow, the crushing multitude
Will press and push and reach
To touch the hem of His garment,
But tonight He is yours.

Enfold Him in your arms and hold Him
Oh, so close to your heart
Tomorrow, He must be about his Father's business
A world is lost and waiting for salvation
But tonight He is yours.

Listen.  Do you hear the angels singing?
Look. The star is already shining.
Wrap Him in swaddling clothes, Mary
And lay Him in the manger
For shepherds will be knocking at your door
But tonight He is yours.

Snowflakes
Tara McIntire Fryer

Snowflakes falling from the sky
help remind us exactly why
Christmas came so long ago
cleansing the earth like each new snow
One pure, unique, and of perfect form,
who came to earth to withstand the storm.

Snowflakes
Margaret Allen

Silently the virgin snowflakes fall
Softly twinkling in the rising sun
Not a snowflake is alike you see,
Not even a single one.

Each one securing a different place
That is theirs on the earth, by will.
Each one possessing a special face,
Each having a mission to fulfill.

Each little snowflake is a special gem
Decending to the earth again,
Pursuing the path of the Lords elect,
Choosing to follow and Honor Him.

A Child's Faith
Christie L. Coles

"He slept in a manger;
He had no bed."
"I would have given
Him mine," she said.

"He walked alone
On the shores of Galilee."
"I wish He were here:
He could walk with me."

Such is a child's heart,
Full of love and peace;
Small wonder He said,
'Become such as these.'

SNOWFLAKE
Help one another the snowflake said
As it cuddled down in its little bed
One of us here would not be felt
One of us here would surely melt
So I'll help you and you help me
And then what a wonderful drift there'll be!

Christmas Scripture Advent
On the first day of Christmas we bring this gift to you,
So the true spirit of Christmas can join your family too.
Now throughout this holiday season, as the days get hectic and long,
Gather together at the end of each day,
Share a scripture, story and song.
With your  hearts and voices joined together, the spirit will ring loud and clear,
And we hope that this time spent together
Will fill your holidays with cheer!

Dec. 1 Isaiah 7:14                  Angels We Have Heard On High
Dec. 2 Isaiah 9:6                   Away In A Manger
Dec. 3 Micah 5:2                   O Little Town of Bethlehem
Dec. 4 Jeremiah 23:5            O Come All Ye Faithful
Dec. 5 Isaiah 40:1-4              Joy to the World
Dec. 6 Jeremiah 33:14-15     The First Noel
Dec. 7 Isaiah 40:11                It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
Dec. 8 Psalms 24                    Hark the Herald Angels Sing
Dec. 9 Jeremiah 23:6            While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks
Dec. 10 Jacob 7:11-12            Far, Far Away On Judea's Plain
Dec. 11 1 Nephi 10:4              God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Dec. 12 1 Nephi 13:18             What Child Is This
Dec. 13 1 Nephi 11:20-24       O Holy Night
Dec. 14 1 Nephi 11:27            Who Is The Child
Dec. 15 Helaman 14:3             Samuel Tells of the Baby Jesus
Dec. 16 Helaman 14:5-6         I Heard the Bells
Dec. 17 Luke 1:30-31             I Believe in Christ
Dec. 18 3 Nephi 1:13             When Christ Was Born In Bethlehem
Dec. 19 3 Nephi 1:19             Star Bright
Dec. 20 Luke 2:4-7               O Hush Thee My Baby
Dec. 21 Luke 2:8-11              How Great Thou Art
Dec. 22 Luke 2:12-14            We Three Kings of Orient Are
Dec. 23 Matthew 2:1-2         With Wondering Awe
Dec. 24 Mosiah 3:5-8           Silent Night
Luke 1:26-38, 46-47
Luke 2:1-20
Matthew 2:1-14

The Story Of The Candy Maker Who Loved Jesus

There was a man who loved Jesus so much that he decided to do something special for Jesus' birthday. Since he was a candy maker, he decided to use his talents to make a special candy to honor Jesus, so he designed the first candy cane.

If the candy cane is held upright,it is in the shape of a shepherd's staff which the shepherd uses as he watches over his sheep. Jesus is our shepherd. If the candy cane is turned upside-down, it becomes the letter "J" for Jesus.

The scriptures tell us that by Jesus' stripes we are healed. Jesus was beaten and stripes were put upon his back when he was crucified in payment for our sins. So, the candy cane was made with red and white stripes to represent the blood of Jesus which washes away our sins and makes us pure and white as snow. One bold stripe represents our belief in one God who is father of us all. The three fine stripes represent the godhead; Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost.

There are a lot of candy canes in the stores today made with different colors, but they are not true candy canes unless they are red and white and have one bold stripe and three little fine stripes.

True candy canes are Christian candy because they tell a story about Jesus.

The Last Christmas Tree
I saw a truck of Christmas trees
And each one had a tale,
The driver stood them in a row
And put them up for sale.
He strung some twinkly lights
And hung a sign up with a nail;
"FRESH CHRISTMAS TREES"
It said in red
"FRESH CHRISTMAS TREES FOR SALE."
He poured himself hot cocoa
In a steaming thermos cup,
And snowflakes started falling
As a family car pulled up.
A mom, a dad, and one small boy
Who looked no more than three
Jumped out and started searching
For the perfect Christmas tree.
The boy marched up and down the rows,
His nose high in the air;
"It smells like Christmas, mom!
It smells like Christmas everywhere!"
"Let's get the biggest tree we can!
"A tree that's ten miles high!
"A tree to go right through our roof!
"A tree to touch the sky!"
"A tree SO big
"That Santa Claus
"Will stop and stare and say,
"'Now, THAT'S the finest Christmas tree "'I've seen this Christmas Day!'"
It seemed they looked at every tree
At least three million times;
Dad shook them, pinched them, turned them 'round
To find the perfect pine.
"I've found it, mom!
"The Christmas tree I like the best of all!
"It's got a little bare spot,
"But we'll turn that to the wall!"
"We'll put great-grandma's angel
"On top the highest bough!
"Oh, can we buy it?
"Please, mom, PLEASE?! "Oh, can we buy it NOW?"
"How 'bout some nice hot cocoa?"
Asked the man who owned the lot.
He twisted off the thermos top, "Now, THIS will hit the spot!"
He poured the steaming chocolate
In three tiny paper cups.
They toasted, "Here's to Christmas!"
And they drank the cocoa up.
"Is this your choice?"
The tree man asked,
"This pine's the best one here!"
The boy seemed sad--- "My daddy says
"The price is just too dear."
"Then, Merry Christmas!"
Said the man, who wrapped the tree in twine,
"It's yours for just one promise
"You must keep at Christmas time!"
"On Christmas Eve at bedtime
"As you kneel to pray,
"Promise in your heart
"To keep the joy of Christmas Day!"
"Now hurry home! This freezy wind
"Is turning your cheeks pink!
"And ask your dad
"To trim that trunk and give that tree a drink!"
And so it went on
All that blustery eve
As the tree man gave
Tree upon tree upon tree
To every last person
Who came to the lot---
Who toasted with cocoa
In small paper cups,
Who promised the promise
Of joy in their hearts---
And singing out carols,
Drove off in the dark.
And when it was over
One tree stood alone;
But no one was left there
To give it a home.
The tree man put on his
Red parka and hood
And dragged the last Christmas tree
Out to the woods.
He left the pine right by a stream
In the cold,
So the wood's homeless creatures
Could make it their home.
He smiled as he brushed off
Some snow from his beard,
When out of the thicket
A reindeer appeared.
He scratched that huge reindeer
On top his huge head---
"It looks like we've
"Started up Christmas again!"
"There are miles more to travel,
"And much more to do!
"Let's go home, my friend,
"And get started anew!"
He looked to the sky
And heard jingle bells sound---
And then,
In a twinkling,
That tree man was gone!

THE GOLD BOX
Some time ago a friend of mine punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight, and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put it under their Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found that the box was empty.

He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside of it?"

The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh daddy, it's not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you Daddy."

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and again begged her forgiveness.

My friend told me that he kept that gold box by his bed for years. Whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us as parents has been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children. No more precious possession could anyone hold...

The Other Wise Man
Each year at Christmas time we delight to follow the wise men as they came out of the East and made their way to Bethlehem where they worshiped the new-born king and laid their treasures at his feet. But Henry Van Dyke has told us about another wise man who also followed the star not only to Bethlehem, but throughout his life, and yet he never found the king. The other wise man's name was Artaban. He was a kind of unknown soldier who didn't quite make the headlines. He was also one of the Magi and lived in Persia. He was a man of great wealth, great learning and great faith . With his learned companions he had searched the scriptures as to the time that the Savior should be born. They knew that a new star would appear and it was agreed between them that Artaban would watch from Persia and the others would observe the sky from Babylon.

On the night that the sign was to be given, Artaban was speaking to nine of his Magi friends in his home. He said to them, "My three brethren are watching at the ancient temple of the Seven Spheres, at Borsippa, in Babylon and I am watching here. If the star appears, they will wait for me ten days, then we will all set out together for Jerusalem. I believe the sign will come tonight. I have made ready for the journey be selling all of my possessions and have bought these three jewels--a sapphire, a ruby, and a pearl--I intend to present them as my tribute to the king. " He said, "I invite you to make the pilgrimage with us that we may worship the new-born king together."

While he was speaking he thrust his hand into the inmost fold of his girdle and drew out three great gems--one blue as a fragment of the night sky, one redder than a ray of the sunrise, and one as pure as the peak of a snow mountain at twilight. He would give them all to the King. Then one of Artaban's friends said, "Artaban, this is a vain dream. No King will ever rise from tile broken race of Israel. He who looks for him is a chaser of shadows. " Then he bid Artaban farewell and left his dwelling.

Each in turn offered his own particular excuse, and finally only his oldest and truest friend remained. He said, "Artaban, I am too old for this quest, but my heart goes with thee." Then with a hand on Artaban's shoulder he said, "Those who would see wonderful things, must often be willing to travel alone . "

Left to himself Artaban put his jewels back into his girdle. Then he parted the curtains and went out onto the roof to again take up his vigil to watch the night sky.

As Jupiter and Saturn rolled together like drops of lambent flame about to blend into one, an azure spark was born out of the darkness beneath them, rounding itself with purple splendor into a crimson sphere.

Artaban bowed his head. "It is the sign, " he said. "The King is coming, and I will go to meet him."

All night long Vasda, the swiftest of Artaban's horses, hall been waiting saddled and bridled, in her stall, pawing the ground impatiently and shaking her bit as if she shared the eagerness of her master's purpose

As Artaban placed himself upon her back he said, "God bless us both, and keep our feet from falling and our souls from death."

Under this encouragement, each day his faithful horse measured off the allotted proportion of the distance, and at nightfall of the tenth day, they approached the outskirts of Babylon. In a little island of desert palm trees Vasda scented difficulty and slackened her pace. Then she gave a quick breath of anxiety and stood stock-still quivering in every mus muscle .

Artaban dismounted. The dim starlight revealed the form of a man lying in the roadway. His humble dress and haggard face showed him to be one of the poor Hebrew exiles who still dwelt in Babylon. His pallid skin bore the mark of the deadly fever that ravished the marshlands of Babylon at this season of the year. The chill of death was in his lean hand. Artaban turned to go, a sigh came from the sick man's lips, and the brown bony fingers closed convulsively upon the Magician's's robe.

Artaban felt sorry that he could not stay to minister to this dying stranger, but this was the hour toward which his entire life had been directed. He could not forfeit the reward of his years of study and faith to do a single deed of human mercy. But then, how could he leave his fellow man alone to die?

"God of truth and mercy, " prayed Artaban, "direct me in the holy path of wisdom which only thou knowest." Then he knew that he could not go on. The Magicians were physicians as well as astronomers. He took off his robe and began his work of healing. Several hours later the patient regained consciousness.

Then Artaban gave him all he had left of his bread and wine. He left a potion of healing herbs and instructions for his care.

Though Artaban rode with the greatest haste the rest of the way, it was after dawn that he arrived at the designated meeting place. His friends were nowhere to be seen. Finally his eyes caught a piece of parchment arranged to attract his attention. He caught it up and read. It said, "We have waited till past the midnight, and can delay no longer. We go to find the king. Follow us across the desert."

Artaban sat down upon the ground in despair and covered his face with his hands. "How can I cross the desert with no food and with a spent horse? I must return to Babylon, sell my saphire, and buy a train of camels and provisions for the journey. I may never overtakn my friends . Only God the merciful knows whether or not I shall lose my purpose because I tarried to show mercy.

Several days later when Artaban's train arrivctl at Bethlehem the streets were deserted. It was rumored that Herod was sending soldiers, presumably to enforce some new tax, and the men had ]taken their flocks and herds back into the hills beyond his reach.

The door of one dwelling was open, and Artaban could hear a mother singing a lullaby to her child. He entered and introduced himself The woman told him that it was now the third day since the three wise men had appeared in Bethlehem. They had found Joseph and Mary and the young child, and had laid their gifts at his feet. Then they had disappeared as mysteriously as they had come.

Joseph had taken his wife and babe that same night and had secretly fled. It was whispered that they were going far away into, Egypt..

As Artaban listened, the baby reached up its dimpled hand and touched his cheek and smiled. His heart warmed at the touch. Then suddenly outside there arose a wild confusion of sounds. Women were shrieking. Then a desperate cry said, "The soldiers of Herod are killing the children."

Artaban went to the doorway. A band of soldiers came hurrying down the street with dripping swords and bloody hands. The captain approached the door to thrust Artaban aside, but Artaban did not stir. His face was as calm as though he were still watching the stars. Finally his outstretched hand revealed the giant ruby. He said, "I am waiting to give this jewel to the prudent captain who will go on his way and leave this house alone." The captain amazed at the splendor of the gem, took it and said to his men, "March on, there are no children here. "

Then Artaban prayed, "Oh, God, forgive me my sin, I have spent for men that which was meant for God. Shall I ever be worthy to see the face of the King?"

But the voice of the woman, weeping for joy in the shadows behind him said softly, "Because thou hast saved the life of my little one may the Lord bless thee and keep thee, the Lord make His face to shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee; the Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace."

Then Artaban, still following the king, went on into Egypt, seeking everywhere for traces of the little family that had fled before him from Bethlehem. For many years we follow Artaban in his search. We see him at the pyramids. We see him in an obscure house in Alexandria, taking counsel with a Hebrew rabbi who told him to seek the king not among the rich but among the poor. Then we follow him from place to place. He passed through countries where famine lay heavy upon the land, and the poor were crying for bread. He made his dwelling in plague-stricken cities where the sick were languishing in the bitter companionship of helpless misery. He visited the oppressed and the afflicted in the gloom of subterranean prisons. He searched the crowded wretchedness of slave-markets. Though he found no one to worship, he found many to serve. As the years passed he fed the hungry, clothed the naked, healed the sick and comforted the captive.

Once we see Artaban for a moment as he stood alone at sunrise, waiting at the gate of a Roman prison. He had taken from its secret resting place in his bosom, the last of he jewels that he was saving for the king. Shifting gleams of azure and rose trembled upon is surface. It seemed to have absorbed some of the colors of the lost sapphire and ruby; just as a noble life draws into itself its profound purpose; so that all that has helped it is transfused into its very essence, so the pearl had become more precious because it had long been carried close to the warmth of a beating human heart.

Thirty three years had now passed away since Artaban began his search and he was still a pilgrim. His hair was now white as snow. He knew his life's end was near but he was still desperate with hope that he would find the king. He had come for the last time to Jerusalem.

It was the season of the Passover and the city was thronged with strangers. There was a singular agitation visible in the multitude. A secret human tide was sweeping them toward the Damascus gate.

Artaban inquired where they were going. One answered, "We are going to the execution on Golgotha, outside the city walls. Two robbers are to be crucified, and with them another called Jesus of Nazareth, a man who has done many wonderful works among the people. But the priests and elders have said that he must die, because he claims to be the Son of God. Pilate sent him to the cross, because he said that he was the "King of the Jews.'

How strangely these familiar words fell upon the tired heart of Artaban. They had led him for a lifetime over land and sea. And now they came to him darkly and mysteriously like a message of despair. The king had been denied and cast out. He was now about to perish. Perhaps he was already dying. Could he be the same for whom the star had appeared thirty-three long years ago.

Artaban's heart beat loudly within him. He thought, "The ways of God are stranger than the thoughts of men, and it may be that I shall yet find the King, and be able to ransom him from death by giving my treasure to his enemies."

But as Artaban started toward Calvary he saw a troop of Macedonian soldiers coming down the street, dragging a sobbing young woman with torn dress and disheveled hair. As Artaban paused, she broke away from her tormentors and threw herself at his feet, her arms clasping around his knees.

"Have pity on me, " she cried, "And save me, for the sake of the God of purity. My father was also of the Magi but he is dead, and I am to be sold as a slave to pay his debts."

Artaban trembled as he again felt the old conflict arising in his soul. It was the same that he had experienced in the palm grove of Babylon and in the cottage at Bethlehem. Twice the gift which he had consecrated to the king had been drawn from his hand to the service of humanity. Would he now fail again. One thing was clear, he must rescue this helpless child from evil.

He took the pearl from his bosom. Never had it seemed so luminous, so radiant, so full of tender, living luster. He laid it in the hand of the salve and said, "Daughter, this is the ransom. It is the last of my treasures which I had hoped to keep for the King."

While he yet spoke, the darkness of the sky thickened and the shuddering tremors of an earthquake ran through the ground.

The houses rocked. The soldiers fled in terror. Artaban sank beside a protecting wall. What had he to fear? What had he to hope for? He had given away the last remnant of his tribute to the King. The quest was over and he had failed. What else mattered? As one lingering pulsation of the earthquake quivered beneath him, a heavy tile, shaken from the roof, fell and struck him on the temple. He lay breathless and pale. The rescued girl leaned over him fearing that he was dead. Then there came a still, small voice through the twilight. It was like distant music. The notes were clear, but the girl could not understand the words.

Then the lips of Artaban began to move, as if in answer and she heard him say, "Not so, my Lord; for when saw I thee hungered and fed thee? Or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw I thee a stranger and took thee in? Or naked, and clothed thee? When saw I thee sick or in prison, and came unto thee? Thirty-three years have I looked for thee; but I have never seen thy face, nor ministered unto thee, my King."

As he ceased, the sweet voice came again. And again the maid heard it, very faintly and far away. But now she understood the words which said, "Verily, I say unto thee, that inasmuch as thou hast done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, thou hast done it unto me. "

The "W" in Christmas

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations - extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six year old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant." I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher.

She assured me there would be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment - songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row- center stage - held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love."

The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down...totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W". The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W".

Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together. A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities.

For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear: "CHRISTWAS LOVE."

And, I believe, He still is.

~ Author Unknown ~

The Christmas Scout
"...Praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on Earth."
Written by Samuel D. Bogan

In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-year-old Frank Wilson was not happy. It was true that he had received all the presents he wanted. And he enjoyed these traditional Christmas Eve reunions of relatives, this year at Aunt Susan's, for the purpose of exchanging gifts and good wishes.

But Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had together.

Frank said good-bye to his relatives and explained to his parents that he was leaving a little early to see a friend: from there he could walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It was his favorite gift. The other presents he placed on his new sled.

Then Frank headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy Scout troop. Frank always felt understood by him. Though rich in wisdom, he lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived, and his patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family. To Frank's disappointment, his friend was not home.

As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, through one front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with the limp stockings hanging over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated near them weeping.

The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with presents. A sudden thought struck Frank, he had not done his "good turn" for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door. "Yes?" the sad voice of  the woman inquired. "May I come in?"

"You are very welcome," she said, seeing his sled full of gifts, and assuming he was making a collection, "but I have no food or gifts for you. I have nothing for my own children."

"That's not why I am here," Frank replied. "Please choose whatever presents you'd like for your children from this sled."

"Why, God bless you!" the amazed woman answered gratefully. She selected some candies, a game, the toy airplane and a puzzle. When she took the new Scout flashlight, Frank almost cried out. Finally, the stockings were full.

"Won't you tell me your name?" she asked, as Frank was leaving. "Just call me the Christmas Scout," he replied.

The visit left the boy touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in his heart. He understood that his sorrow was not the only sorrow in the world. Before he left the Flats, he had given away the remainder of his gifts. The plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy.

But he trudged homeward, cold and uneasy. Having given his presents away, Frank now could think of no reasonable explanation to offer his parents. He wondered how he could make them understand.

"Where are your presents, son?" asked his father as he entered the house.

"I gave them away."

"The airplane from Aunt Susan? Your coat from Grandma? Your flashlight? We thought you were happy with your gifts."

"I was very happy," the boy answered lamely.

"But, Frank, how could you be so impulsive?" his mother asked. "How will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much love shopping for you?"

His father was firm. "You made your choice, Frank. We cannot afford any more presents."

His brother gone, his family disappointed in him, Frank suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his generosity. For he knew that a good deed always should be it's own reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back, however, he wondered if he would ever again truly recapture joy in his life. He thought he had this evening, but it had been fleeting.

Frank thought of his brother and sobbed himself to sleep. The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke:

"Merry Christmas, everybody! The nicest Christmas story we have this morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled this morning, another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts from a teenage boy who simply referred to himself as the Christmas Scout. No one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself."

Frank felt his father's arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his mother smiling through her tears. "Why didn't you tell us? We didn't understand. We are so proud of you, son."

The carols came over the air again filling the room with music.