THE GAS STATION
(A Christmas Story - Author Unknown)
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, George, Old George 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," George
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," George 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."
George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from
the
cold;
the car was dead. "You ain't going in this
thing," George said as he
turned away.
"But mister. Please help...." The door of the office
closed behind
George as he went in. George 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." George helped put the
woman in the
truck and watched
as it sped off into the night. George turned
and walked
back inside the office.
"Glad I gave em the truck. Their tires were shot too. That
'ol truck
has brand
new........" George 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," George
thought. George
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 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." George 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. "Something for
pain," George 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."
George sat down beside him. "I would never leave an injured
man in the
Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George 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
your gonna be right as rain."
George 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
George
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 George. "You
need to put the
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,"
George 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." George 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..."
George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit
of squeeze
now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it
through the
bestwe 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."
George 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.
George 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."
George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other.
"
That guy
work here?," the cop continued.
"Yep," George 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, George,
and thanks
for everything."
"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That
ought to
solve some of your problems." George 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 George.
"I got my
memories. That's all I need." George 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," George said. "Now git
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," George said.
"See ya the day after."
George 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 George's shoulder. "But you do
celebrate
the holiday, George. 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."
George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And
how do you
know all this?" asked the old man.
"Trust me, George. 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, George, I have to go now.
I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."
George 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, George...
it's my
birthday. Merry Christmas."
George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday,
Lord."
"What you do today, right now,
will have an accumulated effect on all your tomorrows."
Beautiful
story of the true meaning of Christmas.
It sure made me get all teary eyed. Hope you enjoyed it too
:)