Inasmuch as .

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Inasmuch as ...
(Playing ~ "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?")

" .... Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."
~ Matthew 25:40

The Gas Station

The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away.
He had no decorations, no tree, no lights. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas; just couldn't find
a reason to celebrate. There were no children in his life. His wife had gone.

He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about
when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through.

Instead of throwing the man out, Joe ... Ole Joe as he was known by his customers ... told the man to come and sit by
the space heater and warm up.

"Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy. I'll just go"

"Not without something hot in your belly." Joe turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger.
"It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew. Made it myself. When you're done there's coffee, and it's fresh."

Just at that moment he heard the 'ding' of the driveway bell. "Excuse me; be right back," Joe said.

There, in the driveway, was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister,
can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child, and my car is broken."

Joe opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold; the car was dead.
"You ain't going in this thing," Joe said as he turned away.

"But, mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind Joe as he went in. Joe went to the office wall and got
the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building and opened the garage, started the truck,
and drove it around to where the couple was waiting.

"Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good." Joe helped put
the woman in the truck, and watched as it sped off into the night. Joe turned and walked back inside the office.

"Glad I gave 'em the truck. Their tires were shot, too. That 'ol truck has brand new ......" Joe thought he was talking
to the stranger. But the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty with a used coffee cup beside it.

"Well, at least he got something in his belly," Joe thought. Joe went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start.
It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker
with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the block hadn't cracked;
it was just the bottom hose on the radiator.

"Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So, he put a new one on.

"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln.
They were like new, and he wasn't going to drive the car.

As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and, beside a police car, an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Help me." Joe helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention.

"Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels.
He used those and duct tape to bind the wound.

"Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. "Somethin' for pain,"
Joe thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup
and gave the policeman the pills.

"You hang in there. I'm going to get you an ambulance." The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on
that there talk box out in your car."

He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard, destroying the two-way radio. He went back in to find
the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."

Joe sat down beside him. "I would never leave an injured man in the Army, and I ain't gonna leave you." Joe pulled back
the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed
the important stuff though. I think, with time, you're gonna be right as rain." Joe got up and poured a cup of coffee.
"How do you take it?" he asked.

"None for me," said the officer.

"Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts."

The officer laughed and winced at the same time. The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun.
"Give me all your cash! Do it, now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking, and Joe could tell that he had never
done anything like this before.

"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.

"Son, why are you doing this?" asked Joe. "You need to put that cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."

The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now, give me the cash!"

The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," Joe said to the cop. "We got one too many
in here now." He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need
the money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now, put that pee shooter away."
Joe pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel
of the gun at the same time.

The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good
at this, am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job.
My rent is due. My car got repossessed last week ......"

Joe handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of a squeeze now and then. The road gets
hard sometimes. But, we make it through the best we can."

He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes
we do stupid things." Joe handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Being stupid is one of the things
that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now, sit there and get warm,
and we'll sort this thing out."

The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."

"Shut up and drink your coffee," the cop said.

Joe could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt.
Two cops came through the door, guns drawn.

"Chuck! You OK?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"

"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.
Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."

Joe and the young man both looked puzzled at each other.

"That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued.

"Yep," Joe said. "Just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."

The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the
wounded cop and whispered, "Why?" Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas, boy .......
and you, too, Joe, and thanks for everything."

"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems." Joe went into
the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go. Something for the little woman.
I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this,"
said the young man. "It means something to you."

"And now it means something to you," replied Joe. "I got my memories. That's all I need."
Joe reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company
had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."

The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier. "And what
are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that, too," Joe said. "Now, git on home to your family."

The young man turned, with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."

"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," Joe said. "See ya the day after."

Joe turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?"

"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?"

"Well, after my wife passed away I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree, and all, seemed
a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides
I was getting a little chubby."

The stranger put his hand on Joe's shoulder, "But, you do celebrate the holiday, Joe. You gave me food and drink
and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son, and he will become a great doctor.
The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you
will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."

Joe was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.

"Trust me, Joe. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And, when your days are done, you will be with Martha again."
The stranger moved toward the door.

"If you will excuse me, Joe, I have to go now. I have to go home, where there is a
big celebration planned."

Joe watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned
into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room.

"You see, Joe ....... it's my birthday. Merry Christmas."

Joe fell to his knees and replied,

"Happy Birthday, Lord."

~ author unknown

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