Good morning, and happy Friday!
Sorry it's taken me so long to post again. I was planning on posting on Wednesday, but that day must have just blown away. It was in the 70s and we had wind gusts of 50 mph at times. Sure didn't feel like Christmas time.
I'm not sure what all happened this week. I know last Saturday I had play practice most of the morning. This year I get to be in the play instead of writing and directing it. I only sing carols with some other girls so it's not like I have to learn any lines or anything. All the carols are ones I already know, so it's pretty easy. Sunday had a lot of different practices. Before church a few of us practiced a song we were going to sing for the program, but we decided yesterday to cancel it because we just couldn't get everyone together for practice. On Sunday we also had bell practice with the kids at church, and my sis and I practiced a song with the Children's Church group. I also practiced playing the piano for my sister and two young girls who wanted her to sing a song with them for the program. They are pretty cute.
The rest of this week has just disappeared. I've read some, written some, went Christmas shopping with my mom to try and find something for my widow, and worked on getting lots of Christmas cards ready. I'm sure there were some other things I did, but the days are running together and . . .
Oh, wait! On Monday evening all my nieces and nephews were over so their parents could go shopping. We made and decorated Christmas cookies and ate pizza for supper. I wish I had a picture of the 18-month-old rolling and cutting, and patting, and rolling, and eating the cookie dough! It was so cute! She wanted 'noman cookies. :D
And here's the last part of this story. Well, the last part that I've written. I've been told it needs more. Enjoy.
The flickering lights of the candles in the windows looked friendly as Old Sawyer crossed the yard with the three brothers. He had put out the lantern and shut the barn door, latching it again from the outside. Looking around at the dark yard, he wondered if Bethlehem had been that dark on the first Christmas. Had the moon shone in the sky? Or had clouds covered the heavens?
He put aside his thoughts when they reached the house. Once inside, he turned the almost never used lock and set about making his guests welcome. Mark was settled in Old Sawyer’s bed, his leg dressed by the old rancher’s capable hands, and after some hot tea which Old Sawyer claimed was his “Bessie’s cure for fevers an’ such”, was covered with blankets and left to sleep.
Titus and the younger brother, Elisha, were served bowls of hot stew and then the three men, not feeling like retiring, settled themselves in the front room near the fire. For some time no one talked, then Titus, in a husky voice said, “Thank you, sir. Most cattlemen wouldn’t have lifted a finger for us. At the least they would have left us in the barn and let come what may. But Mark–” He paused, drew a breath, and then went on. “I don’t think Mark would have lasted. He was already feelin’ poorly when–well, when they came. Took him more time to reach the shelter of the bushes and that’s when he got hit in the leg.”
Old Sawyer shook his head and rocked back and forth. “Ya know who set fire an’ shot Mark?”
“Sure do,” Elisha spoke quickly. “I had my gun and was ready to fight back, but Titus hauled me away and wouldn’t let me so much as fire a shot.”
“You’re too hot headed, ‘Lish. You would have killed someone, and I couldn’t stand the thought of someone being killed over sheep again, Especially not on Christmas Eve.”
“Again?” Old Sawyer paused his rocking.
“Pa was shot when Elisha was only ten.” Titus stared into the flames.
“Why’d you help us, mister?” Elisha asked, his face looking more youthful in the light of the fire’s glow.
Picking up his Bible, Old Sawyer rubbed his hand over the worn leather cover. “Well, I were readin’ the Christmas story for I heard the barn door, an’ I had jest read the line about there bein’ in the same country shepherds. I reckoned if the first ones to hear of the Savior’s birth was a bunch of shepherds, than the least I could do is offer other shepherds a place to stay.”
“I–”
Loud voices outside stopped whatever Elisha was going to say and his face grew a shade paler.
“They’ve found us,” Titus whispered.
Old Sawyer rose quietly. “Jest get yerselves in that there room with yer brother and don’t make a sound.”
As soon as the door to the small bedroom was shut, the old rancher picked up his rifle and moved to the kitchen. Taking the lantern from its nail, he lit it and unlocked the door. Quietly, he slipped outside.
“Who’s there?” he called.
Instantly, four or five men left the yard and hurried toward the house, the glowing lantern, and the old rancher. “We’re lookin’ for some fugitives,” one of the men called out. “Ya seen anyone?”
“Fugitives? No. What’s their crime?”
“They’re tryin’ ta take over our cattle country with the dumb and smelly sheep, an’ if that ain’t a crime, I don’t know what is.” The speaker shoved a hand into his pocket as his companions laughed.
“Bill Perkins, that you?” Old Sawyer held his lantern up higher and looked at the speaker.
“Sure is, Old Sawyer.”
“Why aren’t ya at home with yer folks this Christmas Eve, ‘stead a causin’ trouble an’ seekin’ ta harm yer fellow man?”
“We knew they’d be home tonight. Folks generally are this night.”
“Unless they’re out breakin’ the law,” Old Sawyer remarked almost to himself. Then in a louder voice he said, “Ain’t one a ya read the Christmas story?”
Heads nodded and one of them, a puzzled look on his face said, “Sure, but what’s that got ta do with things?”
“Shepherds were the first ones to receive the glad news of the Savior’s birth. Now if that don’t show that the Good Lord thinks highly of ‘em, then I ain’t sure what does. Now I suggest ya all get home an’ read it yerselves an’ think it over.”
For several minutes the younger men stood before Old Sawyer in silence. Then a few in the back turned and walked away into the darkness. One by one the others followed.
Only after the last man had disappeared did Old Sawyer turn and go back inside. He put up his gun, hung up his coat, and took off his boots. Then he walked to the bedroom door. “It’s all right now, boys. They’re gone an’ I reckon they won’t be botherin’ ya for some time.”
*
The dawn of Christmas morning was bright and clear. The grass was covered in frost which glittered and sparkled like jewels. Old Sawyer made his way back to the house after he had finished the chores in the barn. Pausing in the yard, he drew in a breath. The smell of frying ham drifted from the house. It was good to have company even if he had to give up his bed and sleep in the old rocking chair. “It’s better ‘n in the barn,” he murmured. “Lord, bless the Tyler brothers. Ya know I ain’t one to favor sheep, an’ were I young I might a been wantin’ ta join them troublemakers last night. But I’m jest an old man now, Lord, an’ ya gave me a bit more sense than I used ta have. Would Ya tell my Bessie Merry Christmas for me? An’ tell her it ain’t a lonely Christmas since I put her candles in the windows. And Lord, thanks for still makin’ me useful even to a bunch of shepherds.”
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