The sun. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1937-1972, December 22, 1960, Image 14
PAGE 6—SECTION B
THE NEWBERRY SUN, NEWBERRY, SOUTH CAROLINA
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CHRISTMAS
/f so much to
Christmas Day to send this
happy wish your way
Higgins Appliance Service
1215 Kinard Street
Newberry, S. C.
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THURSDAY, DEC 22, 1960
Phone 2766
?€<€«€«?€««?€ «€<€«€tCXtCt€
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New Year §
Host ^
JIM ADAMS
By Jean Reedy
threw another log
on the fire, from a small pile
in a corner of the room. He eased
lis tall, lanky body into a wicker
?asy chair. He drew the chair
;loser to the fire and ran a hand
:hrough his thick, black hair that
;howed a few silver threads.
Leaning back he stretched his feet
.oward the blaze and turning his
head he surveyed the lamp lighted
room. A few wicker chairs, a
small wooden table, a battered
desk and the couch with its dark
cushions and a folded blanket. The
clock on the table told him the
New Year was not far away.
Jim smiled contentedly as he
heard the wmd howling and the
rain beating against the windows
of the bungalow in spiteful fury,
as though it had rushed through
the night to settle a grudge.
Quiet Spot
This bungalow was the last of
a row that were situated on the
bank of a wide creek and they
fronted on a narrow dirt road. In
the summer they were occupied
by families on vacation. But now
it was winter and they were all
deserted, except this one on the
end.
The burning log sputtered,
throwing up sparks like fourth of
July fireworks. A tree branch
scraped the roof with a rasping
sound. The wind whistled and
howled and someone was knock
ing on the door.
Jim sprang up, frightened. Who
could that be? Opening the door
^Hoping your Christmas will
be as peaceful and bright as
the fallen snow.
Shealy Tractor & Implement Co.
MASSEY-FERGUSON SALES & SERVICE
Route 1 Phone 1424-J Newberry, S. C.
The older man stepped into the
room and dropped the bag inside
the door.
just far enough to peep out he saw
the glistening puddles in the nar
row, dirt road and a stocky mar
with a fringe of grey hair arouna
the edge of a peaked cap from
which the rain was dripping and
over his shoulder he carried a
draw-stringed bag.
“I saw a light under your win
dow shade. Mister,” he said. ‘‘I
looked in and your fire’s so tempt
ing. I thought I’d take a chance
on asking you to let me dry out.”
Hesitation
Jim hesitated. He didn’t want
company, but the old man was so
bedraggled. And, after all, it was
New Year’s Eve. ‘‘We-l-l, come
in,” he said, opening the door
wide.
The older man stepped quickly
into the room and he dropped the
draw-stringed bag just inside the
door. “I’m Carl Simms,” he said,
“A gentleman of the road, as you
can see.”
Jim smiled. “How-dee,” he said.
Soon Carl was on another wick
er chair and his stocking feet
were stretched toward the blaze
while his shoes were drying. “You
have a nice place here,” he said.
“I had a summer bungalow many
years ago. I had a home and a
wife, but she died Some men
drink to forget. I took to the road.
And I learned to like it. Some
times I work in the fields, or
towns. Odd jobs. But I soon hike
out again. I usually travel South,
but this autumn stayed warm so
long.”
“It sure did,” Jim said. Now he
was glad that he had let the other
in. He was in good company. And,
who wants to be alone as a New
Year is born?
After a while Jim went to the
kitchen and brought back a large
coffee pot and he set it in the fire
place. “We’D ha’* some coffee,”
he said. “We’D have to drink it
black. I don’t have—”
“Black suits me,” Carl said.
Soon the coffee was boiling and
it was sending out a delicious
aroma.
The next morning was bright
and clear and when Jim arose the
old man had gone.
Jim made the bed. drank the
cold coffee that remained, washed
the mugs and the coffee pot. Be
fore leaving he found some paper
and a pencil in the desk and the
note he left on its top read: “Me
an’ another bum stayed in your
place last night. We didn’t spoil
nuthin.’ We used the coffee you
left here and burned a few logs.
One of your back windows was
unlocked. I locked it now. Happy
New Year, whoever you are!”
God has given us two hands—
one to receive with and the other
to give with. If we fail to fulfill
this divine duty and privilege, we
have missed the meaning of
Christmas.—Billy Graham.