My Third Favorite Christmas Season Story ........... 12/23/11

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget
that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but
 to live by them.”       John F. Kennedy       

      The following is my re-telling of events, based on research and an account given by Fritz Vincken, the young eleven year old son mentioned in the story.  For more about him, read here. 

       In December 1944, the Battle of the Bulge was fought in sub-freezing weather.  The American and British troops were defeating a Ger-man force twice their number. This engagement lasted from December 16th until January 25th, 1945.  A cook for the Nazi Army left his wife and young son in a shack in the Ardennes Forest near the German-Belgium border, seemingly distant from danger

  

      The poor weather---snow, bitter cold and impenetrable fog----grounded Allied aircraft and greatly aided the German advance.  That Christmas Eve, soldiers on both sides became lost.  Many looked for a place to bed down until morning, when they would resume their search for their unit. 

       The following story happened sixty-seven years ago........

      Three American soldiers stumbled upon an occupied shack.  Light emanated from the cottage windows, smoke pouring from the chimney.  It offered a chance to warm their frost-bit, combat-weary bodies.

        Upon its door, they knocked. 

       A mother and a young boy responded.  Using sign language, the soldiers asked to enter.  The German woman was preparing a meal, using a scrawny chicken.   She beckoned the men in, offering her simple Christmas meal.

       One soldier was wounded, shot during a fire-fight earlier that day.  The woman, using rags, stopped his bleeding.  He laid upon the living room couch.  The language barrier was broken when the men learned the lady spoke French, a language that a G.I. from Louisiana knew. 

   

      The Americans unloaded their forty-five to sixty pound packs.  The evening provided a rare chance to stretch-out.  Spend-ing the night in some-thing bigger and warmer than a foxhole was a welcomed treat, especially in this weather.  

       The heat from the hearth, was an appreciated, an unexpected early Christmas gift.   Little did they know the room would experience warmth of another kind, soon.

      More than an hour passed when a rap upon the weather-worn door startled the little family and American visitors.  The men grabbed their weapons.  The woman answered the door.  

      Four German soldiers were lost.  "Was shelter available?" they asked the lady.  "Yes, come in for Christmas dinner, but I have other guests," she answered. 

       One German soldier remarked, "Americana?"  She said, "Yes. This is Christmas.  There'll be no killing tonight, not in my home."  She ordered the Germans to leave their weapons outside, before entering.  Those from the United States were instructed to do the same.

       The combatants stood together, men who earlier that day, sought to kill one another.  The little boy heard his heart banging loudly.  He pulled on his winter jacket.   

        He didn't want everyone else hearing the emotional percussion, too. 

        For what seemed eternity---ten minutes---the room strained under the uncomfortable silence. The men warily eyed each other.  Eventually, Ameri-can cigarettes were offered to the Europeans.

       The Germans wel-comed them, provisions being scarce.  A German soldier with medical train-ing inspected the wounded American.  Finding usable items within the home, he tended to the injured G.I. 

        Preparations for the Christmas dinner were completed.  The food was meager-----what was meant for the woman and her son was stretched to serve seven last-minute guests.  A bag of stored potatoes provided a hearty soup.  Before eating, the woman of the cabin spoke. 

        This woman declared war was wrong.  She recounted the Christmas Story, speaking of the hope it offered.  The host spoke in German to the European visitors and in French to the Americans.

        The soldiers, including the tough German sergeant, were moved.  The eyes of few of these battle-hardened men swam.  They recalled stories told to them during Christmas, when they were little, in warmed childhood homes.  

        While gnawing at the stringy chicken, the uneasiness the men had towards each other transformed into warmth. 

        After the meal, the Nazi soldiers sang Silent Night, a song of German origin.  Afterwards, two of the Germans sang  the verses in English, along with the Americans.

        Fed and satisfied with their first home-cooked meal in months, the men slept in the cramped quarters of the alpine cottage.  In the morning, the Ger-mans made a stretcher for the wounded American.   A compass and directions were given to the Americans.  The Germans took the lady and boy back to the German lines, reuniting her with her husband.

        For one night, during a horrific battle, God's peace dwelt within nine who spent the night in a tiny cabin.  Even in the worst possible situation, God dwelt among them. 

        Two thousand years ago, a young pregnant woman and her husband were not admitted to a crowded inn, in Bethlehem.  No room for the Christ child.  Today, this slight can be corrected. 

         He can be welcomed into the inn of our hearts.  Invite Him, if you haven't.  You'll discover the greatest Christmas gift ever----eternal life.

        The Peace in Bethlehem came to nine persons in a middle of the Battle of the Bulge in war-torn Europe.  Experiencing God's love and peace is just as available today, to hearts torn with despair or pain.

         I ask God to show me, how I can demonstrate character like the mother in this story.  Being an instrument of His peace, is my desire.  The world desperately needs to know hope, freedom from fear, gratitude and peace.

        May you have a great and grateful Christmas!