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THE DADE COUNTY TIMES, TRENTON, GEORGIA, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1959
HIST AROUND THE CORNER. ■ ■
■ ■
By Rev. Lee W. Hill
It was one of those unusually
warm Mid-December days. I had
just come from the hospital
where I had been visiting’ a man
who had, a day or so earlier, had
an operation on his back. I was
thinking about my visit with
him. His bed reminded me of
pome of the garages to which I
had taken my car for repairs.
No, it wasn’t greasy as it seems
to be so necessary in garages,
but his bed was equipped with
some big mechanical rig that
resembled a hoist with all of its
pulleys and ropes and levers,
and everything else that could
make it more complicated and
give it the appearance of a
frankenstein. I think they said
he was in “traction”. Well, he
was in something, and it didn’t
look like he was going to be able
to get out of it. I wanted to
help him, but I had the feeling
that if I got too close to this
contraption it would reach out
JOHN L CASE COMPANY
Trenton, Georgia
some unsuspecting arm and pin
me to the bed as it seemed to
have done him. So I measured
carefully what I thought to be
a safe distance and stood my
ground.
PITY FOR WHOM?
There I stood, and there he
lay, and Christmas was just
around the corner peeping at
both of us if to wonder which
one of us to pity. I think she
finally decided on me, for there
I was, shaking at the imagina¬
tions that “traction” was flash¬
ing through my unstable mind,
and there he was, gratefully ac¬
cepting (‘tractions’s” offer of
healing.
We called Christmas from
around the corner for a little
chat with her, a sort of a sneak
preview. She stood there before
us in all the colors befitting
gaiety and festivity. So beauti¬
ful was she our eyes were
fastened on her. Vfe could not
look away, not even to Dixie
land. But to be sure she had
captured our affections, heart
and soul, she began to sing.
“SILENT NIGHT”
The music of Christmas—who
has not thrilled to its delight?
Her special talent seems to be
music. And when she began to
sing “Silent Night, Holy Night"
we waited in breathless rapture,
for there before us appeared the
scene of the Babe of Bethlehem,
cradled in a manger, above
which blazed, dazzling
ance, the word: GOD IS LOVE.
With this bit of
Christmas quietly slipped away
and took her stand just around
the corner, for it was yet ten
days before she was scheduled
(
to come.
When my friend and I finally
caught our breath we began to
talk about Christmas and its
prospects. I was somewhat fear-
Iful that it might be a rather
gloomy subject to discuss with
a man in “traction”. But it was
more welcome than conditions
had led me to believe. Though
he was pretty sure that he
would be lying on his back on
a hard bed when Christmas ar¬
rived, he spoke of the joys and
the inner assurance in the
of one who has made room for
the Saviour. I left him with a
prayer, and he left me with a
song.
; w;fe“go » rhok’s covfr
N 0 back and pic. up
the story from the beginning. I
had just come from the hospi-
tal. It was such a beautiful day
that I decided I would go down
town and look around. I had no
| particular business, for I was
through my Christmas shop-
ping. I mean through, because
I had spent all my money and
had obligated myself for the
next twelve months to every
business man who thought , h t i
had an honest face (I must
confess I could not find many
such business men. I tried to
comfort myself by recalling the
old adage that “You can’t judge
a book by its cover”). My appear
,ance didn’t I thought, do me
justice in getting me credit, but
is sure did go a long way in
keeping me out of debt. i
ELBOW BRIDADE j
After . joining the “elbow
brigade” of Christmas shoppers
and being pushed along for
about an hour, not daring to
stop for fear of being trampled
upon, I finally found myself in
the clear again. Standing on
i the street corner trying to de-
| velop a stiategy that would en-
™
“ r “ jm< r 1 *‘ >ok * 00 much
. ‘ ‘ hc huddIe
n For
-
ri“ !™!" e n glng ’* aC ^ “ pon conU , me , ,rom were four Uf
, rec lon ”?. did a « not -
' '
see me, their , eyes fixed on each
other. So there I was “in the
j^pted middle". mmaie ^ Finding myself rather
a choice of what to
do I resigned myself to the
pleasurable pastime of Vi eaves- ca,co '
a-OPPta* ° ne of the women,
who must have know what it is
to filibuster, and who was
J‘, tmp L y lan 1 mp e y ~ ’ leart an ^ ® d , apparently uttered
’
\ * cry of angulsh: cant
’ a lng . ’ my eet * re k* 11 * 11
’ an burnin , up!
I looked around the corner,
and there stood Christmas
again. But this time she was not
beautiful. Her brilliant colors
'h ad faded. She sang no song,
She just stood there—weeping.