Good Will Awakened in the Midst of a Killing Field on Christmas Eve................... ..................12/20/21

WWII photo of the Ardennes Forest

          The following I wrote years ago.  I re-vised it this year.  A tradition is posting it during this season. 

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        I hope life is treating you well. For many, this Christmas season is frantic, materialistic. 

        Needn't be so.

        My hope is to coun-terbalance the pressures of Madison Avenue. We may think splurging is the way to happiness.  It is easy to be distracted from the meaning of this season. 

          It isn't about candy canes, Santas, elves.  Nor is it revealing how much we care for loved ones by how much we shell out for gifts.  Heavens no. 

          

          Christmas is not about warm feelings, Christmas trees or music, eggnog, hearth, and home.  Nope.  It's about the most incredible gift mankind received. God's love for us. 

          The gift of his Son, given to this world, is celebrated this Saturday, on Christmas day.

      Below is my third favorite Christmas-related story.  My version is based on research and the account given by Fritz Vincken, the young twelve-year-old boy mentioned in the narrative below.  For more about him, read here. 

        Wishing you a calm and nurturing Christmas week, 

               Pablo

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       In December 1944, the Battle of the Bulge was fought in sub-freezing weather.  The American and British troops were defeating a German 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, greatly aided the Ger-man 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 seventy-six years ago......

       The snow crunched as three American soldiers trudged through the forest.  Weighed down with their sixty-pound packs and nine-pound M1903 Springfield rifles, the three combat-tested Americans stumbled upon an occupied shack after tromping around for three hours.  There was hope.  Light glowed from it.  

       Smoke drifted from the chimney.  It offered the possibility of warm refuge for their frost-bit, combat-weary bodies.  Breaking the silence of the night, upon the tiny house door, they knocked. 

       Using sign language, the soldiers asked to enter. Elizabeth-- with her twelve-year-old son by her side, responded. Frau Vincken was prepar-ing a meal using a scrawny chicken.

       She waved the men in, offering a simple Christmas meal.

       One soldier was shot through the thigh during a fire-fight that morning. The stabbing pain had him rocking from side to side as he lay upon the living room couch.  The wo-man, using rags, stopped the bleeding.  

       The language barrier was broken when the men learned the lady spoke French, which a G.I. from Louisiana knew. 

       The Americans grunted in relief as they unloaded their packs.  This evening provided a rare chance to stretch out.  Spending the night in something more significant and war-mer than a foxhole was welcomed, especially in this weather. 

       The heat from the hearth, an appreciated unexpected early Christmas gift.  Little did these men know that soon, emanating from the room would be the warmth of another kind. 

         More than an hour passed when a crisp rap upon the weather-worn door startled the little family and their American visitors.  The men grabbed their weapons while Elizabeth an-swered the door.  Four German soldiers were lost. 

      "Was shelter available?" they asked.  "Yes, come in for Christmas dinner, but I have other guests," she answered.  One German soldier remarked, "Americana?"  Elizabeth replied, "Yes."

       "This is Christmas Eve.  No killing tonight, in my home."  She ordered the Germans to leave their weapons outside before entering.  The American G.I.s did the same.

       The combatants stood, men who, earlier that day, sought to kill one another.  The little boy's heart banged loudly.  Fritz pulled on his winter jacket to muffle the sound. 

       The lad didn't want everyone else hearing this emotional percussion. 

       For what seemed eter-nity---eight minutes---the room strained under an uncomfortable silence. Eventually, American cigarettes were offered to the Europeans.  The men warily eyed each other. 

       The Germans welcomed them, provisions being scarce.  A German soldier with med-ical training inspected the wounded American.  Finding usable items within the bunga-low, he tended to him, removing the bullet. 

        Preparations for the Christmas dinner were completed.  The food was meager-----what was meant for the Frau Vincken, and Fritz was used to serve seven last-minute guests.  A bag of potatoes stretched the food, becoming the base for a hearty soup.  

        Before eating, the woman rose to speak. 

       

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

        The soldiers, including the tough German sergeant, were moved.  The eyes of several of these battle-hard-ened men swam with held-back tears.  They recalled Christmas stories told at this time when they were little.  

        While gnawing upon the stringy chicken, uneasiness transformed into the warmth of companions sharing a simple, appreciated meal. After dinner, the Nazi soldiers sang Silent Night, Austrian in origin.  By tradition, it could not be sung before this day, Christ-mas Eve. 

        Afterward, two of the German men sang it in English, along with the guests from the United States.

        Fed and satisfied with their first home-cooked meal in months, the men slept in the cramped quarters of the tiny alpine cottage.  In the morning, the Germans crafted a stretcher for the wounded American.  A compass and directions were given to them, too. 

        The Nazi soldiers took the lady and her son back to the German lines, reuniting her with her husband.

        For one night, during a violence-strewn battle, God's peace dwelt with-in nine who spent the night in a small cabin.  Even in the worst possible con-ditions, the love of God resided among them. 

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       In Bethlehem,  more than two thousand years ago, a young pregnant woman and her husband were not admitted to a crowded inn.  Today, this slight can be corrected.  He can be welcomed into the inn of our hearts.  You can invite Him if you haven't.  You'll discover the greatest Christmas gift ever----eternal life.

        The Peace born in Bethlehem was showered upon nine persons in the middle of the Battle of the Bulge in war-torn Europe.  Experiencing God's harmony and love is avail-able today, to hearts torn with despair, fear 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 tranquility.

How About You? 

How are you celebrating this Christmas season? 

  May you have a great and grateful Christmas!