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Save $80 with code SPACE80 at Talkspace.com. The following program is sponsored by What's Right, What's Left Ministries and is responsible for its content. Portions of the following program may be prerecorded. I am Pastor Ernie Sanders, the voice of the Christian Resistance. Stay tuned. My radio broadcast, What's Right, What's Left, is coming up right now.
Coming to you live from Independence, Ohio. We changed our life for the better in many different ways. Heard around the world every Monday through Friday. Pastor Sanders is always years ahead of the rest of the media, telling you exactly what they're covering up.
This is What's Right, What's Left. I tune in every chance I get to hear exactly what's going on with the voice of the Christian Resistance. Unabashedly cutting through the rhetoric by exposing the hard topics facing our society and world.
A lot of the other news medias don't pick up the news items like he does. And bring into light the enemies of freedom who are out to steal your rights, your children, and enslaving you. You really get the truth out. I can tune into your show and hear the unvarnished truth.
Thank you. This is What's Right, What's Left with Pastor Ernie Sanders. Good evening and welcome to another edition of What's Right, What's Left. This is our Christmas production and we're kind of excited about this. We're all ready to go. And tonight, there you go, producer extraordinaire, none other than style. Hey, good evening, Pastor.
Live in the studio, give a cackle to Lisa. Good evening, everyone, and Merry Christmas. All right. And then we have the elder Randall Barkley. Merry Christmas, so come let us adore him. And we have a special surprise.
He is the Missouri legend, none other than the parson, the pastor, old Joe Larson. Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas! May the light of God shine upon all of you this Christmas. I'm glad to be back, even temporarily, and part of this wonderful ministry to deliver a wonderful Christmas message, right? Message and story.
Absolutely. Joe, it's good to hear from you. Thank you all, and thank you so much for all the cards and letters, but I did get to spend some wonderful time with family that I've been missing for a very long time, and it was truly, truly a blessing. Joe, I guess it was good to hear from you.
I didn't know you'd be calling in. I was actually going to ask Pastor Ernie Sanders what you're going to do if you didn't get to say Merry Christmas to all the people out there. Well, you know, I had that same question asked of me last night.
Well, we have the answer. I'll have a blue Christmas without you. I'll be so blue just thinking about you.
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree. Won't be the same folks if Joe's not here with thee. I'll have a blue snowflakes start falling. That's when those blue memories start calling. You'll be doing all right with your Christmas of white, but I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas. I'll have a blue Christmas for certain, and when those blue heartaches start hurting, you'll be doing all right with your Christmas of white, but I'll have a blue, blue, blue Christmas. There you go. Were you impressed, Joe?
Thank you, Pastor Ernie, but now it will be a white Christmas for everybody, right? OK, very good. All right. We're going to start out by you had to. Well, go ahead. You're going to be the first one to go today with your your script.
Do it. OK, I'm going to start with a story of a father and a son. It's a Christmas story. A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection from Picasso to Raphael.
They would often sit together and admire the works of art. But when the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. His father was notified and, of course, grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later. Just days before Christmas, there was a knock at the door and a young man stood at the door of the large package in his hands. And he said, sir, you don't know me, but I'm the soldier for whom your son gave his life.
He saved many lives that day and he was carrying me to safe safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you and your love for art. The young man then held out a package and he said, I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this. The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son painted by the young soldier. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. And the father was so drawn to the eyes that his eyes just swelled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. But he said, no, no, sir, I could never repay for what your son did for me.
A real, real gift. The father hung the portrait over his mantle and every time visitors came to his house, he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works of art he collected. A few years later, the man died, too. Since he left no heir, all these paintings were to be sold at auction. Collectors came from all around.
It isn't often that such a great collection was available. As the auction opened, the first painting on the platform was the painting of the sun. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. We will start the bidding with this picture of the sun. Who will bid for this picture?
There was silence, a horrible silence in the room. A few minutes later, a voice from the back shouted, we want to see the famous painting skip this. But the auctioneer persisted. Will somebody bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? One hundred dollars? Two hundred dollars?
Another voice, angry from the back. We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids.
But still the auctioneer continued. The sun. The sun. Who will take the sun?
Finally, from the very back of the room came a voice. It was the long-time gardener of the man and his son. I'll give a hundred dollars for the painting. Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. We have a hundred. Who will give two hundred? A hundred? Two hundred? Give it to him for one hundred dollars.
Let's see the masters. The auctioneer kept trying to raise the bid, but the crowd was angry. They wanted the investments for their collection, so the auctioneer pounded the gavel, going once, twice, sold for one hundred dollars. A man sitting on the second row shouted, now let's get on with the collection. The auctioneer laid down his gavel.
I'm sorry, the auction is over. What? What? The crowd? What about the paintings?
I'm sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the sun would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including all the paintings. The man who took the sun gets everything.
God gave his only son, well over two thousand years ago, to die on the cross, the lamb of God. Much like the auctioneer, the message is the same. The sun, the sun, whoever takes the sun, well, gets everything. Boy, how true that is, how very true. Amen, isn't it true? Yeah, you know, wouldn't it be a wonderful, wonderful thing if somehow we could find a way to get that through to people out there. We know that, well, the preaching God's word doesn't become, and the Bible talks about the foolishness of preaching to the opposition, but that's the way, the only way we've been able to get to people out there, but that's right.
Whoever gets the sun. God tells us how he wants it done. We're to preach his word and to do it with, you know, all our faith and all our courage, and it's up to the Holy Spirit to convict the hearts. Amen. With that, we're going to let Lisa tell us about some golden wrapping paper.
Okay. Well, once upon a time, there was a man who worked very hard just to keep food on the table for his family. This particular year, a few days before Christmas, he punished his little five-year-old daughter after learning that she had used up the family's only roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. As money was tight, he became even more upset when on Christmas Eve, he saw that the child had used all of the expensive gold paper to decorate one shoebox she had put under the Christmas tree. He also was concerned about where she had gotten the money to buy what was in the shoebox.
Nevertheless, the next morning, the little girl, filled with excitement, brought the gift to her father and said, this is for you, Daddy. As he opened the box, the father was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, now regretting how he had punished her. But when he opened the box, he found it was empty, and again his anger flared. Don't you know, young lady, he said harshly, when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside the package. The little girl looked up at him in sad tears rolling from her eyes and whispered, Daddy, it's empty.
It is not empty. I blew kisses into it until it was all full. The father was crushed. He fell on his knees and put his arms around his precious little girl.
He begged her to forgive him for his unnecessary anger. An accident took the life of the child only a short time later. It is told that the father kept this little gold box by his bed for all the years of his life.
Whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems, he would open the box, take out an imaginary kiss, and remember the love of this beautiful child who had put it there. Well, you know, every now and then sometimes you'll, well, things won't be exactly the way they look, and you'll discipline a child for something that appears that they've done, and you're wrong. Boy, when that happens, boy, do you, well, do you feel like a dummy, huh? You feel terrible. It just tears your guts.
That's what it does. Yep, that's, I think that happens to all of us at one time or another, and now we're going to have Elder Randall Barkley, he's going to read to us. Well, a good friend of mine, a good friend of yours, Judge Roy Moore, he wrote a story.
Well, go ahead Randall and take it away. The old man was alone by the fire that night. His wife and kids were in bed. Christmas was near, but he was out of a job and could barely keep his family fed. It was snowing outside and cold in the room because he had little wood left to burn. This would be a sad Christmas with cupboards so bare, for he had run out of places to turn. In the fire-like dim, he folded his hands and knelt by an old chair to pray. Dear Lord, he said, as a tear he shed, I don't know just what I should say. Then came a knock on the door. He could pray no more. T'was a young man in the shivering night. His coat was old and his shoes were worn.
He was really quite a pitiful sight. I've been walking all night, the young man said, and my home is still far away. If I may warm myself by your fire for a while, only a minute I will stay.
The old man threw a log on the fire and made him a bite to eat. You're very kind, sir, said the young lad as the old man gave him his seat. Where are you bound on this cold winter night, dressed so ragged and bare?
I'm headed home, replied the young man. My father waits for me there. I wouldn't care about this ragged old coat if only his face I could see. When I get home, I'll have all I need, for there with my father I'll be. He then went to leave, so the old man got up and brought out the only coat he had.
Here, take my coat, he said with a smile, for the weather is exceptionally bad. The lad said goodbye before the old man could ask, for he wanted to know his name. But when he looked out the door, the stranger had gone, and not a trace could be found in the snow. But there in the yard was a new stack of wood higher than a man could build, and when he looked in the kitchen, he couldn't believe that all the cupboards were filled. The chair in which the stranger had sat was now one made of pure gold. On the back of the chair, a note was pinned, and this is the message it told. My father and yours are one and the same. You've been a good brother to me. What a man sows, so shall he reap, and thus it shall always be. When I knocked on the door, you opened it to me and gave me what you needed too. Now, as you have done for a stranger in need, so shall it be done unto you. You know, that's what makes this time of year when we think about it.
I mean, I've had people who in the past haven't really, well, let's just say we really didn't get along that well. Actually had texted me, wished me Merry Christmas, you know, and so this type of year, a lot of things are happening, and I've noticed even some of those on the far left are changing their attitude, okay? And so it's this type of year. We have so many good stories about, you know, the Christmas spirit, and it kind of brings back, you know, well, Joe, you and I have been around a while, and we remember Christmases of a different time. And I remember as a young man living there in Cleveland, going downtown to the big department stores where my mother would put us on a bus and take us downtown and just walk in the lights. In those days, they didn't have these little bitty lights like they have now.
They had the great big bulbs, and the windows in all the department stores, they'd have trains set up, you know, electric trains and that. And what a difference, you know, it is in today, but still today you've got that Christmas spirit out there. Yeah. And Jesus is the only reason for this season. Yes.
That's right. Pastor, you know, it really is a miraculous power that I believe that the Lord has just sent. And it sums it up really in the word because it tells you, and an angel said to them, fear not for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. And he said, glory to God in the highest and on earth peace and goodwill toward men.
And during this time, it can be such a time of where there's depression and people hurting because of various things. But this is this is a declaration from heaven that was over 2000 years ago, and it still is prominent and important and it's still working today, that same miraculous power. So I just say, blessed be the name of the Lord for the great gift, that indescribable gift that God sent through his son, Jesus Christ is still giving. That's a gift that nobody could ever repay. It's a gift that we could never, ever acquire on our own.
But you know what? Not 2000, but 300 years ago, we had in this country, the founding fathers who were all Christian men. And we had that war for independence. And tonight I'm going to talk about the battles of Trenton and Princeton. In December of 1776, George Washington and his army were in retreat. The British had surrounded them on Long Island in New York, but under cover of darkness and by the providence of Almighty God, the American army outsmarted the British and reached safety in the state of New Jersey. Washington had fewer men than the British, began a fast retreat across the state of New Jersey. After the retreat from Long Island, the entire country seemed discouraged. The Continental Congress was discouraged.
The army was discouraged. The British wrote home that Washington did not dare to fight and the war would be over in a few weeks. Little did they know that Washington's hope did not despair, but he kept faith in God. He told his men that if he had to, he would take his army to the backwoods of Virginia, which he knew so well, and make a last stand against the British. On December 11th, 1776, the Continental Congress called for a day of fasting and prayer throughout all the colonies. Samuel Adams said, let America exert her own strength and God, who cannot be indifferent to her righteous cause, will even work miracles if necessary to establish her feet upon a rock.
Meanwhile, Washington's troops had reached safety in Pennsylvania. The British ordered that all extra food and supplies were to be taken from all families, even if the families were on the British side. Anyone who fired upon the British was to be hanged.
During this period of war, a new type of British soldier appeared. The King of England, the King of the area in Europe, we now call Germany, had loaned some soldiers to the King of England. These Hessians, as they were called, were promised that they could take anything in plunder they found from the Americans and become rich.
This they did with zeal. The Hessian troops were known throughout America for their cruelty. 1,000 of these British troops had been placed in Trenton, New Jersey, by the British General Howe. About the 25th of December, Washington told his officers about a daring plan. All the boats on either side of the Delaware River for over 70 miles surrounding Trenton had been either obtained for use by the Army or burned. Washington planned to march his men to Trenton, take the supplies, then march to Princeton and capture the supplies there. All day on the 25th, Christmas Day, the Hessians had been celebrating.
By nightfall, they were tired and ready for a good night's sleep. Little did they know the plans were being made, played out just across the river. Washington began his march at 3 p.m. with about 2,400 men. Each man had only 40 rounds of ammunition with him and three days of ration of food. Eighteen cannons were pulled by the teams of horses. It was very, very cold that winter, and the night of the 25th was no exception.
By the time the Army reached McConkeys Ferry at twilight, large chunks of ice were quickly moving on the river. Washington had sent several other generals and their men to other areas around Trenton with the plan for them all to attack at the same time. But about 6 p.m. when it arrived that the other generals would not be taking part in the attack. They had made their own decisions. One believed he should be in charge. Another could not get across the river in time. A couple of others believed whether to be too bad for any type of attack. Still, Washington and his Army remained determined. About the same time, a small band of 20 to 30 American soldiers attacked the Hessian outpost and wounded about five or six men. The Hessians sounded the alarm and sent a company after the rebels.
Shortly, though, after finding nothing, they returned to Trenton with the belief that it was just another small band of locals trying to annoy them. Life was soon back to normal and a lot of celebrating. As the night went on, it became one of the worst in the winter. It was so cold. The frost was heavy. The current on the river was vast. The ice flows seemed to increase each minute. The wind blew hard.
At 11 p.m., it began to snow. As Washington's Army reached the Delaware River, word was sent to the soldiers from Marblehead. They were from outside of Boston, Massachusetts, and were fishermen by trade. They were the ones who saved the Army during the Long Island retreat.
They would now once again play an important role. Your experience helped them to ferry the men across the river. It was slow going because of all the ice in the river. But by 3 a.m. in the morning of the 26th, all the men, horses, and cannons were safely on the other side.
It did, however, take another hour before everyone could be organized. They then began the nine-mile march through the snow and ice to Trenton. The strong, northeast sound of storms, of wind and sleet and hail met them with each step. A small detachment of soldiers caught up with Washington shortly by following the bloody footprints left in the snow by the soldiers. Many of the soldiers were making the march with holes in their shoes or no shoes at all.
Just feet wrapped up in rags. And when the Army reached Birmingham, they divided into two groups. One group under General Sullivan stayed near the river, but shortly realized their guns had become wet and would not fire. Washington, whose group had gone down Bennington Road, sent order for Sullivan's men to use bayonets and go into the town of Trenton. The soldiers had only to hear the words, and their bayonets were fixed as they were eager to go. Back in Trenton, the Hessians had been sleeping undisturbed.
All the patrols had reported that all was quiet. As Washington neared Trenton, it was reported that he asked a man who was chopping wood, which way is the Hessian picket? The man who was afraid told Washington, I do not know. One of Washington's officers rode up and told the man, you may tell, for this is General Washington.
The man then cried, God bless and prosper you. The picket is in that house, and the sentry stands near the tree. Thus Washington's men attacked the picket on Bennington Road, where Sullivan's men attacked the picket near the river. As Sullivan's men attacked, the Hessians ran out of their barracks, but they were startled by the attack.
So startled that they turned and ran into the forest. At one point in the battle, Washington was riding in front of his army as they were forming and setting up six cannons. He was shot, thus a good mark for someone to shoot.
Although his horse was shot, Washington remained unhurt. The Hessians soon began to withdraw, leaving their cannons. They might all have gotten away, except they refused to leave their plunder. They returned to fight, but were quickly surrounded and surrendered.
The total action in the battle took only 35 minutes. No American lives were lost. At least 946 Hessians were taken prisoners. Seventeen Hessians were killed, and over 162 Hessians escaped to the British lines.
Washington's price was 1,200 small arms and ammunition and six cannons, two of which were large-sized cannons. The Pennsylvania Lutherans wrote, Till that hour the light of the United States flickered like a dying flame, but the Lord of Hosts heard the cries of the distressed and sent an angel for their deliverance. Trenton was captured. The battle won, but the plan was not finished. Washington marched his men back across the Delaware River that night after only a short rest and some food. The troops were now worn out by cold rain and snow.
In need of sleep, the care of almost 1,000 prisoners, they again marched out into the sleet to cross the river. Once it crossed, they would wait for reinforcements, supplies, and for the British General, Cornwallis, to come after them. Now, Cornwallis, Washington knew, would be angered by the Battle of Trenton and would come after the American Army.
Washington had outwitted Cornwallis before, and he would do it again. As Washington's troops regrouped, they realized that the enlistment of almost half of the army was now up in a few days. Washington asked the men to stay on and continue the battle. The troops believed in what they were fighting for, and then one mighty sheriff said, Yes, they would stay.
They would all stay. Each day that passed brought more volunteers. More soldiers also meant more money was needed to pay them. Washington and his officers began to borrow money by pledging their own personal fortunes. Now, the Quakers did not believe in fighting, yet on January 1st, a man by the name of Robert Morris went from door to door in Philadelphia, which had a large Quaker community, to raise money with which to pay the soldiers.
By the next day, Morris was able to send Washington $50,000. By January 2nd, over 5,000 men had joined Washington. That same day, Cornwallis, with 5,000 British and Hessian troops, began to march toward the Continental Army.
The British Army was harassed all the way by the local militia. About a mile from Trenton, 600 Americans under General Green, with two cannons, stopped the British and Hessians for a while. Green and his men were quickly rejoined, and they quickly rejoined Washington. The British troops came up against the full American Army, but Cornwallis was tired from the march and believed his troops were superior, so he decided to stop for the night. Cornwallis ordered camp maid and turned in for a restful sleep, believing victory would be his in the morning. There was no rest, however, for Washington that night. All seemed to be falling in place for his plan. He knew well that back roads of the area by that time, it was soon discovered that the road to Princeton was left unguarded. Washington ordered a small company of men to keep large campfires going, dig trenches, and make a lot of noise. The rest of his army quietly began to march to Princeton. By God's providence, the wind changed and became very cold. The roads, which only a few hours before had been muddy, became frozen, which allowed for easy movement of the cannons.
The British, meanwhile, believed all was well and suspected nothing. About sunrise, Washington's army arrived outside of Princeton. Most of the British troops had been sent to join Cornwallis. The Americans quickly began to prepare for battle and to set up the cannons.
But due to fatigue from their march, they were discouraged. Washington rode out in front of the army up to within 30 yards of the British lines while they were forming. Each side fired a volley.
There was panic. I'm sure in the hearts of the Americans, their beloved leader was in the path of the fire. The smoke cleared, and Washington, by God's grace, was untouched.
The whole battle was over in less than 20 minutes. 200 British were killed, 230 were taken prisoner, and only a small number of Americans were killed. Back outside Trenton, Cornwallis woke to the surprise of finding no Washington and no Continental Army. The cannons fired in the direction of Princeton told them that he had been tricked.
Perhaps is why the British called Washington the old fox. Cornwallis quickly set up, and he set out with his army towards Princeton, but reached it just as the last of Washington's troops were leaving. Washington and his men fell back to Morristown, Pennsylvania. Knowing that since it was a rebel stronghold, the British would not dare to follow. The battles around Trenton and Princeton were the first American victories in the Revolution.
A clear message was sent. Britain and the rest of Europe, that America intended to win this war. Within a month of the battles, a proclamation was signed by Washington that any once sympathetic with the British should move behind the British lines.
The British lines at this point in the harbor are in the war, included only the areas around Fort Niagara, New York Harbor, and Rhode Island. The rest of the country lay in the hands of the Continental Army. One British historian was delighted to write of how the American Army complained not of the cold, not of the lack of sleep, not of the lack of food, not of the lack of money or clothes, only that Washington did not take better care of himself during the battle and was always in the middle of the action. The British had no idea of the love and respect this man received from the new nation.
Washington's army was devoted to him. And I'm going to stop right there and think about that, that cold winter where here you can see the tracks in the snow where their feet, where the shoes had worn out and they had wrapped their feet with rags and left bloody footprints in the snow. And they did it because they wanted freedom. And you know, our rights and our freedoms come from Almighty God.
Amen. And Joe, you have the next story, so go ahead. This is a little lighter message, and it's also one that kind of universal children of all ages. It's the legend of the candy cane. The story is called A Candy Maker's Gift.
And it's a story that's dear to my heart. I've read to all my children, grandchildren, and hope it's a tradition you can all use. Long ago on a cold winter night, a warm light glowed in the windows of a candy shop. The old candy maker shuffled to the door and hung an open sign in the window, put on his apron, added a log to the fire in the pot-bellied stove. All the while he smiled, thinking about his seven-year-old granddaughter. What can I give my Katie girl for Christmas, he wondered.
I'd like to surprise her with a special gift. After he unpacked his wooden chest that held a hand-carved nativity set, he carefully arranged the figures in his store window. The candy maker bustled about, refilling candy jars with mint and butterscotch drops, jelly beans, candy sticks, and he chuckled as he thought about Katie and the village children. He knew all the children by name and their favorite candies. Looking over his list of Christmas orders, the old man marked next beside the names of families with children. I'll slip in an extra bag of candy for them, he said to himself. I wish I could see the children's faces when they find the candy surprise I've sent. Humming a carol, he opened the cupboard and took out his work, an assortment of sugar, flavoring sacks and ribbons.
And suddenly the doorbells jingled and a blast of wind and snow blew into the shop. To the old man's delight, a group of children scurried in like a flock of birds. Laughing and talking, the children crowded around the candy case. Joey, the youngest, pressed his worn mittens against the glass.
The old man smiled at him and thought, times are hard since his father died. Everyone except Joey laid a coin on the counter and picked out their treats. The candy maker chatted while he packed the candy in small bags and tied them with ribbon. I can't wait to decorate, said little Ben. But sorry, I interrupted, I can't wait to see the china doll I get for Christmas.
The other girls were silent. Kara and Mary Ann would probably only receive one very small present, thought the candy maker. Chung piped up excitedly. Our school party is on Friday, the candy maker laughed.
Chung, you always love to have fun. Oh, time for school, said Ben, hearing the clock chime. The candy maker passed out the sacks and then handed a special bag to Joey, whose eyes lit up as he reached for his gift. Thank you, Merry Christmas, called the children as they scrambled out the door. Now watching from the window, the old man glanced at the manger set. He remembered watching his father carve it many years ago. I hope the children won't miss the real gift of Christmas, he thought.
Walking back into his shop, he knelt by a chair. Dear Lord, you love these children more than I do. How can I help them know your gift of Christmas?
Show me how I can bless them. Gripping the chair, the candy maker pulled himself up and wiped a tear from his eye. He took down the old iron kettle, measured sugar and syrup into the pot, and then lit the kitchen stove. Patiently he stirred the candy mix, waiting for it to boil. When the syrup began to bubble, a smile brightened his face.
Maybe that's what I can do. I'll try to make a new candy. A candy for Katie and all the children. A candy that will tell them about Christmas. What flavor should it be?
I know. I know what Katie likes. Peppermint. Picking up a small bottle, he carefully added a few drops to the pot.
Mmm, he said, smelling the minty aroma. This reminds me of the spices given by the wise men to the baby Jesus. I want this candy to be white, said the old man, because Jesus, the holy son of God.
And it should be hard candy, because Jesus is like a solid rock, always there when I need him. So the candy maker poured the thick golden syrup into a bowl to cool. He looked around, wondering how this candy could be different from ordinary candy sticks. Greasing his hands with butter, he took this sticky glob from the bowl and began to stretch it. The more he pulled, the smoother and whiter it became. But he felt discouraged.
I just can't think of anything new. Show me what to do, Lord, he prayed. His gaze fell upon the nativity set, and an idea flashed through his mind. He quickly rolled the candy into the shape of a long rope. Then he cut a shorter piece and curved the end. He held up the finished stick and said, hmm, what will Katie and the children think? He curved it in the shape of a J. The doorbells jingled again, and he thought, hi, grandpa, I'm here.
A girl with bouncing curls skipped across the room. The old man laid down the candy stick and hugged her. How's my favorite granddaughter? And the little girl laughed, I'm your only granddaughter, grandpa. Katie's eyes widened when she saw the candy stick.
What are you making, grandpa? It's a funny shape. The candy maker sat down to watch her. What do you think it is, he asked, his eyes sparkling, waiting for her answer.
She grinned. She turned the stick sideways and around. I know, it's a cane.
It's kind of like the one you take on your walks. The old man laughed, yes, it does look like my cane when you hold it that way. He said he pointed to the nativity set. That's the shepherd. The shepherds had a cane too.
You're right, he. It's called a staff. Shepherds use the staff to comfort their sheep, to guide them on the right path and keep them out of trouble. He smiled.
Go ahead, taste it. Katie licked the sweet stick and he continued. This staff reminds us of Jesus, our good shepherd.
A good shepherd will do anything to save his sheep, even give his life. Candy maker cut another stick and curved the end. How can I explain more, he wondered, turning the stick upside down. Oh, what do you see now?
Katie's eyes sparkled. It's the letter J. Why did you make a J?
Because we celebrate Jesus' birthday at Christmas. This candy, J, is my special gift for you. Thank you, grandpa. It tastes yummy and smells good too. She said, but it's kind of plain. Can you make it pretty? Hmm, he chuckled. You're right, it is plain.
He opened a cupboard and took out several small jars. I wanted it to be white because Jesus is holy and sinless. But I can try adding some color. Use red, said Katie. I like red for Christmas. He took a jar from the shelf and a small paintbrush from the drawer. What does red make you think of, he asked. Katie watched her grandfather dip his brush into the food coloring. Red makes me think of hearts and love, she said. Oh, you're helping me, he said. And he painted a swirl of red around a candy stick.
Then he finished the long stripe and paused. The Bible says, for God so loved the world that he gave. Oh, Katie, don't ever forget the first gift of Christmas. Was the baby Jesus the first Christmas gift, she asked? Yes, Jesus was God's gift of love to the whole world. This red stripe can remind us of God's love. He spoke softly and painted another line. Red also makes me think of the blood, the blood that Jesus shed on the cross.
The red narrow line is the stripes. Makes me sad that Jesus had to die, said Katie. It's sad, but it's the way Jesus proved his love for us. When you taste the sweet candy, you think about his sweet love. And remember, Jesus came out of the grave and lives with us today. Katie smiled. Someday we'll live with Jesus in heaven just like Grandma. Yes, we will, forever and ever.
Heaven is God's gift that never ends. The old man's eyes glistened as he handed her the finished candy stick. Watch how you hold it. It's still wet.
The elder shopkeeper leaned back in his chair. Well, what do you think about it, Katie girl? I like it, Grandpa. Can you make some more for all my friends? Yes, and we can work together.
After I cut each stick, you can curve the end and you can help try painting on the stripes. This is going to be fun, said Katie. Jumping up and down in tears of joy filled his old eyes. Silently he prayed. Thank you, Lord, for hearing my prayers and thank you for Katie.
The old man smiled at his granddaughter. Katie, dear, you were part of God's answer to my prayers. I wanted to give you a special gift, but you gave something to me. You helped me make a candy that tells the meaning of Christmas.
Oh, Grandpa, I'm so glad I could help you. And Katie threw her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly. Let's thank God for helping both of us, she said. They knelt and they prayed that this candy gift would remind of God's perfect love, Jesus, and that through it many would come to learn the true meaning of Christmas. Snow fell quietly blanketing the little store while the warmth of the wood stove and the smell of sweet candy filled the shop. The candy maker knew that he and Katie would always remember this day. They never dreamed that this simple sweet gift would become part of Christmas tradition all around the world. Today we just call it candy canes.
That is a story that was written by David and Helen Hadel, and it's called the legend, the inspirational legend of the candy cane. And hopefully it could become a new tradition in your family, decking your tree with the J for Jesus, the shepherds, staff, and all the symbols of his gift to us, his death, his resurrection, his suffering, his shed blood upon the cross by which we are all saved. Hope you have the merriest Christmas ever. Same to you, Joe. Your description on that candy cane makes me hungry.
I didn't have any lunch. Well, that's the nice thing. When we take down the tree at the end of Christmas, we still have the candy canes. And instead of saving them, they usually get eaten.
They're given to grandkids, great grandkids, and we have to buy more every year. Yeah, I know I used to, well, nowadays I can't have as much sugar as I used to. And so that's not because I'm too sweet. Anyhow, we won't go there. We're going to do, well, you know what, we've got just enough time. Well, maybe we don't. Do you have another short one you can do?
Because we've got four minutes left. Sure. A very special story.
Go ahead with it. All right. It was back in the war, the Great War, World War II, and it's a story Ronald Reagan told, and stories of the world, Germany. A special story of a mother and her young son that lived alone in a modest cottage in the middle of the woods. One night, as the Battle of the Bulge exploded not far away and all around them, three young American soldiers arrived at the door. They were standing there in the snow, lost behind enemy lines, all frostbitten, one soldier badly wounded. Even though sheltering the enemy was punishable by death, the young mother, with her only living son, took them in and started to make them a supper with some of her last food. Then suddenly they heard another knock at the door, and this time it was four German soldiers there. The woman was afraid, but she quickly said with a firm voice, There will be no shooting here.
There are Americans inside, but I treat them like my sons like you. She made all the soldiers lay down their weapons, and they did. They listened to the woman. Then they all entered into the small home and sat down and shared what they had and created a makeshift meal. Heinz and Willie were only 16.
The German corporal was 23, the oldest. Their suspicions dissolved into warmth and comfort. One of the soldiers was a former medical student and treated the wounded American. Now, it was the boy there, the young boy, who tells the rest of the story. He said, The mother said grace. I noticed that there were tears in her eyes as she said the old familiar words, Come, Jesus, be our guest. And I looked around the table and I saw tears, too, in the eyes of battle-weary soldiers, boys again, some from America, some from Germany, all far from home. That night, a storm of war was tossing the world, but they had their own private armistice.
The next morning, the German corporal showed the Americans how to get back behind their own lines. They all shook hands, wished each other a Merry Christmas, and went their separate ways. Now, it was Christmas Day, the young boy said. This was back in 1985.
That was 40 years ago. The boys found peace during war. Surely, we can remember that we're all children of God. And if we lived according to His law and let Him be our leader, maybe we wouldn't have such horrible wars in this world anymore. The love of Christ overrides all.
Very good. Yeah, you know, I mean, we really want some peace, don't we? I mean, and again, someday we're going to have peace. We will, yes. We will have peace. We got God's word on that. We'll have that Millennial Kingdom is coming up. He's coming to take us home for peace forever, right?
Absolutely. Well, we're coming up to the end of this first hour. So, we will be back right after this with a whole lot more, so don't go away. More to come. And Merry Christmas.
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