NOT MY STORY, I FOUND IT HERE --> http://www.girltalkhome.com/pdf/Christmas_Story.pdf

There once lived in the city of Marseilles an old shoemaker, loved andhonored by his neighbors, who affectionately called him "Father Martin."

One Christmas Eve, as he sat alone in his little shop reading of the visit ofthe Wise Men to the infant Jesus, and of the gifts they brought, he said tohimself. "If tomorrow were the first Christmas, and if Jesus were to be bornin Marseilles this night, I know what I would give Him!" He rose from hisstool and took from a shelf overhead two tiny shoes of softest snow- whiteleather, with bright silver buckles. "I would give Him those, my finest work."

Replacing the shoes, he blew out the candle and retired to rest. Hardly hadhe closed his eyes, it seemed, when he heard a voice call his name..."Martin!Martin!"

Intuitively he felt a presence. Then the voice spoke again..."Martin, you havewished to see Me. Tomorrow I shall pass by your window. If you see Me, andbid Me enter, I shall be your guest at your table

Father Martin did not sleep that night for joy. And before it was yet dawn herose and swept and tidied up his little shop. He spread fresh sand upon thefloor, and wreathed green boughs of fir along the rafters. On the spotlesslinen-covered table he placed a loaf of white bread, a jar of honey, and apitcher of milk, and over the fire he hung a pot of tea Then he tookup hispatient vigil at the window.

Presently he saw an old street-sweeper pass by, blowing upon his thin,gnarled hands to warm them. "Poor fellow, he must be half frozen," thoughtMartin. Opening the door he called out to him, "Come in, my friend, andwarm, and drink a cup of hot tea." And the man gratefully accepted theinvitation.

An hour passed, and Martin saw a young, miserably clothed women carryinga baby. She paused wearily to rest in the shelter of his doorway. The heartof the old cobbler was touched. Quickly he flung opn the door.

"Come in and warm while you rest," he said to her. "You do not look well,"he remarked.

"I am going to the hospital. I hope they will take me in, and my baby boy,"she explained. "My husband is at sea, and I am ill, without a soul."

"Poor child!" cried Father Martin. "You must eat something while you aregetting warm. No, Then let me give a cup of milk to the little one. Ah! Whata bright, pretty fellow he is! Why, you have put no shoes on him!

"I have no shoes for him," sighed the mother sadly. "Then he shall have thislovely pair I finished yesterday." And Father Martin took down from the shelfthe soft little snow-white shoes he had admired the evening before. Heslipped them on the child's feet...they fit perfectly. And shortly the pooryoung mother left, two shoes in her hand and tearful with gratitude.

And Father Martin resumed his post at the window. Hour after hour went by,and although many people passed his window, and many needy souls sharedhis hospitality, the expected Guest did not appear.

"It was only a dream," he sighed, with a heavy heart. "I did not believe; buthe has not come."

Suddenly, so it seemed to his weary eyes, the room was flooded with astrange light. And to the cobbler's astonished vision there appeared beforehim, one by one, the poor street-sweeper, the sick mother and her child,and all the people whom he had aided during the day. And each smiled athim and said. "Have you not seen me? Did I not sit at your table?" Then they vanished.

At last, out of the silence, Father Martin heard again the gentle voicerepeating the old familiar words. "Whosoever shall receive one such in Myname, receiveth Me...for I was an hungered, and ye gave Me meat; I wasathirst, and ye gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took Me in...verily Isay unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, yehave done it unto Me."

NINE DAYS LEFT 😱
SEE YOU TOMMOROW!!!

(Sorry for not having a song today but for some reason I post a chapter with a song and it disappears when I go through my book. I'm trying to work out the problem.)