A long storoem about a ten-year-old girl's Christmas gift. |
Hannah was a sweet-natured, ten-year-old girl, who had been born with a deformed foot. She walked with constant pain. The doctor told her parents he couldn’t help her. They must put Hannah on a train to the leading school of medicine in Boston for surgery to correct her foot, for it would be cruel if she stayed crippled, subject to mockery. It was 1933. Times were tough. Hannah’s family had little money, none to spare for surgery, just enough to feed, clothe the family. They sold honey and produce from their farm for their living. Sending Hannah to Boston as desired just wasn’t possible. She had no misgiving about her future; she did what was required. Hannah did the best she could to fit in with the other children. However, they laughed at her if she walked fast and fell. She’d grin as they made fun, but inside she felt a cold draft. Hannah turned more to the company of adults. She was active at church, always helping out wherever there was need. She had good results tending the sick. Folks said she’s blessed, no doubt. The spring of Hannah’s tenth year a young, new preacher came to town. He was struck with the plight suffered by Hannah, and he sure knew what was called for – a fund-raising, praise be! He preached; he cajoled; he pressured the few wealthy men in town. The church had bake sales and raffles…until the fund finally grew large enough to pay the cost of all details. The necessary arrangements were made. The money was given to Hannah’s dad. They were to leave Christmas Day. Her decade of suffering would soon end; she was so glad. That night the preacher stopped by. Hannah was in bed but too excited to sleep. She overheard, “Jacksons' new baby…bad heart…unless he does get operation…will die…too expensive…absurd.” When her folks went to bed, Hannah heard her mother pray for the Jacksons' baby son to live. Hannah lay still, waiting ‘til her parents were asleep. Then she knew she had something to give. She took the money from her dad’s bedside table. She set off through the newly fallen snow, walking through the woods. Finally, she was able to see a light in the window ahead, all aglow. She knocked on the door, and when Mrs. Jackson opened the same, Hannah simply said, “Your son needs this more than me.” She handed Mrs. Jackson the money and hurried off, sure of what she’d done. As she hurried away, her feet tangled and she fell face down in the snow. It felt so strange when she tried to stand; when she walked, she could definitely tell the change. As she ran on perfect feet, with joy she cried. Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |