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r y 4 * I 4 « ► 7 V* *4 ♦ * * 4 4 THE CHRONICLE Strives To Be A Clean Newspaper, Complete Newsy and Reliable If You Don't Read IKE CHRONICLE You Don't Get the News Volume LI Clinton, S. C, Thursday, December 21, 1950 Number 51 SPIRITUAL DREAM A Christmas Story Written for The Chronicle By MRS. ADELINE HUGGINS LOFTIS, East Carolina Avenue It happened in a busy department store in Clinton. I was rushed with last things on my Christmas shappin? list. The store was crowded; the clerks were so busy one had to wait his or her turn. With hall my mind on my purchases, the other half di vided between wondering what I could hurritfly fix for supper and the work I had to hurry to afterwards, I was almost in a panic . , Then someone touched my should er, a friend’s voice said, “There’s a man at the door waiting to see you.” “Who is it?” I guess I said it im patiently for that is the way I felt. A strange expression crossed the friend’s face. “He said he was a loved one of yours whom you had not been in touch with lately. He said he would wait.” I stared into the face of my friend as she said this, trying to fatham the quiet peace in her expression, and in the quality of her voice—both were so changed. I pushed my way through the aisle, my bundles bumping against me as I did so- Now, I had a new worry, probable company for supper. Then I was pushing the door open looking into the labS of] the man waiting. I, too, grew calm, unhurried and unworried for there stood Jesus! He smiled at me, saying softly, “Let me take your burden.” He reached out his ungloved hands foe my packages. I caught my breath on a sob as I saw the nail prints in His palms. He glanced quickly at know whether to ask Him if He wished to wash His hands. His hands in my humble basin. I could not think of it. But it was taken out of my hands. 1 My husband said, “This way, Je sus, if you care to wash,” and my little girl ran to get out a fresh towel. When we were seated at the table, I looked at His nail-printed hands folded on the plate wondering if I should ask Him to pray. Jesus did not need to be asked to pray! He smiled at each of us, understanding my inddeision. “Just do as you are aceustomed,” He said genlty to me. At this I saw a little smile on my husband’s face. He knew I was ac customed to makeing excuses for the biscuits, or the meat, or some thing. All this seemed trivial now. Jesus was here! “I want to hear you pray, Jesus,” I said. At once He bowed His head on His hands and prayed. He brought my family to the throne of Grace; He called my three absent children by name; He mentioned each grand child’s name; He prayed for Clintonv He prayed for God’s churches in Clinton; He prayed for Godly lead ers of Clinton, by name; He took each | mother’s son at the battlefront in Korea, laid them before God’s pres ence, asked God to bless them. As He prayed, mentioning names quick ly, accurately, yet unhurriedly, won der and awe filled us until we seem ed apart from every care, every wor ry. Jesus had asked that they be re moved. They were gone as if never me. “You knew me after so long,” and the words were not a question. “I would know you anywhere,” 1 replied, “No matter how long.” We walked along the street togeth er. He instinctively turned across by the depot and the railroad track. Of course He knew just exactly where •I lived. Suddenly I was no longer lired. I did not even think of the cluttered living room waiting for the last touches to the tree. Why, I did not even feel the cold now, when the wind had been like a knife against my face before. We reached the house. Jesus open ed the screen and die shutter for me He waited for me to enter fir*. I asked Him to come in. He smiled as He did so, I took the packages from Him and pushed forward the easiest chair. He said, “You sit here. You are more tired than L” We seated ourselves and talked ■First of the weather, the shopping, the crowds in town. Finally I men tioned the war in Korea. “So many have loved ones fighting and dying over there, Jesus,” I said. His face saddened. “Yes, I know. •1, too, have loved ones over there.” Then it came to me. Here was Je sus—Jesus knew the outcome. Why not ask Him how it was all to end. “What are you going to let happen, Jesus, please?” 1 ventured at lart. He smiled across at me, as if I had asked a childish question, yet He did not seem displeased. “No one,” He replied, “Who puts their trust in God, the Father, need ever fear the outcome.” The confident ring of His voice dispelled my every doubt; I sat there : wondering where my fear had gone! Then the door burst open, my lit tle daughter cried, “Mama, is tt so— is Jesus here?” Then she saw Him as He stood up to welcome her. Tears streamed down my cheeks as she ran to Him and ■threw her arms about His neck. He smiled. He even laughed softly against her dark hair. Then He was asking her about school, her teach ers, her music. More than once I could see she was on the verge of asking how He knew about her teachers—then wonder would spread over her face as she realized anew that this was Jesus who knew all things. I excused myself to fix supper. In the midst of the preparationa my husband came in. I started to ex claim, “Jesus is here.” But one look at Hie met and I ***ed instead "How did you know?” “Several people told roe He was walking down the street with you, so I hurried home." was his reply and he went quickly, tho not in a hurry to the living room. Setting the table I could hear my little girl telling Hhn— “This is Daddy—and Santa Claus,” and a string of things she hoped to get. Silence came and then sebbing, I hurried in to see. My little girl was kneeling at Jesus’ feet. She looked up at me through her tears, sobbing, “We don’t have a present for Je- aus—but he said it didn’t matter now.” " ■ Jesus smiled down at her and up at us. “Dry your tears, dear," He said. “I*m much too big for Santa, at times.” Quite overcome myself about lack of a gift for Him, I asked them in to supper. To my dismay, I did not in existence! His prayer ended. My husband be gan to pass the different foods. Once I opened my lips on an excuse for 1 the hurried supper but I remember ed; this is Jesus, who lived on meager fare, who even fasted many days! Suddenly, my humble supper was a banquet. Jesus had blessed it and it was good! It was bountiful! It was even good enough for Jesus to eat! With supper over we sat about the table listening to Jesus talk. I guess the dishes were still there—nothing seemed to matter except the gentle, even flow of Jesus’ voice. He talked of the days in Galilee— of John the Baptist, of the disciples, Peter, John and others. My little girl asked, “Whart did he look like, Jesus?” Jesus smiled at her and described the “big fisherman” for her. He arose at last to leave. My -little daughter eking to His arm. I did not know how my hukband felt. I, too, felt l must stay by His aide the longest possible moment. As He con tinued to tarry and talk, I busied myself with the dishes, still I seemed still beside Him. Then I suddenly understood. He was by me in spirit while bodily He remained near the door. “It is time I was going,” He said at last. “Will you come back soon, Je sus?” my little girl asked. “Whenever you ask me, I will come and sup with you, again and again,” He answered her with the same fond smile on His face. He held each of our hands a mom- ent in farewell. He did not need to say anything more. The touch of His hands was a benediction; was peace; was loving compassion; was the brushing away of all tears. His hands both blessed and entreated. He weAt away leaving us blessed! Others were also blessed. The owner of the store at whose door He stood, gave to each needy person many useful gifts as they entered. The friend who brought me the mes sage, too, received many blessings. He walked on street corners among groups, each person He touched in passing did some good deed. Each person they touched did the ssme. Telephones were busy finding out who needed helping. Bells sod car* ols rang out from the churches. Ev- «nrwhMf, evwyone wu seeking to make ssmeone happy. Jesus had been there end Ml some of His glory among the people. The greatest thing He left was the words, "Whenever you ask me 1 will come, and be in the midst of you.” CALL 74 FOB YOU* PUNTING AND OmCE SUPPLY NEEDS COMMERCIAL HOUSEHOLD WIRING Electrical Appliance Repairing and Electrical Construction Work Floor Plugs A Specialty ARNOLD M. CANNON 4M V. Maple St. T«L S12-XJ With the ringing of the Christmas BeUs, the lighting of Christmas Candles and in the glor ious spirit of the season, it is with all sincerity ' v that your city officials extend to you this Christ mas remembrance with the wish that your Hol idays will be filled with happiness, rich in the joys of home and family and the friendships of those about you. To each of you, a Very Mer ry Christmas and a Happy and Prosperous New Year. 'I CITY CLINTON JOE P. TERRY, Mayor 1 W. B. OWENS, City Clerk A Treasurer MRS. ARTHUR HOWARD. Assistant T BOARD OF ALDERMEN: Hugh C. Ray, S. A. Pitta, Sr., W. M. McMillan. W. M. Walker. Woodrow L. Wilson, James Craine • y AND ALL CITY EMPLOYEES