THE MISSING JESUS
About a week before
Christmas the family bought a new nativity scene. When they unpacked it they
found 2 figures of the Baby Jesus. “Someone must have packed this wrong,” the
mother said, counting out the figures. “We have one Joseph, one Mary, three wise
men, three shepherds, two lambs, a donkey, a cow, an angel and two babies. Oh,
dear! I suppose some set down at the store is missing a Baby Jesus because we
have two.
“You two run back down to
the store and tell the manager that we have an extra Jesus. Tell him to put a
sign on the remaining boxes saying that if a set is missing a Baby Jesus, call
7126. Put on your warm coats, it’s freezing cold out there.”
The manager of the store
copied down mother’s message and the next time they were in the store they saw
the cardboard sign that read, “If you’re missing a Baby Jesus, call 7126.”
All week long they waited
for someone to call. Surely, they thought, someone was missing that important
figurine. Each time the phone rang mother would say, “I’ll bet that’s about
Jesus,” but it never was. Father tried to explain there are thousands of these
scattered over the country and the figurine could be missing from a set in
Florida or Texas or California. Those packing mistakes happen all the time. He
suggested just put the extra Jesus back in the box and forget about it. “Put
Baby Jesus back in the box! What a terrible thing to do,” said the children.
“Surely someone will call,” mother said. “We’ll just keep the two of them
together in the manger until someone calls.”
“Oh, Daddy, we’ll go with
you,” Tommy and Mary began to put on their coats. Father gave a long sign and
headed for the front closet. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered.
Tommy and Mary ran ahead
as father reluctantly walked out in the cold. Mary got to the store first and
pressed her nose up to the store window. “They’re all gone, Daddy,” she
shouted. “Every set must be sold.”
“Hooray,” Tommy said.
“The mystery will now be solved tonight!” Father heard the news still a half
block away and immediately turned on his heel and headed back home. When they
got back into the house they noticed that mother was gone and so was the extra
Baby Jesus figurine. “Someone must have called and she went out to deliver the
figurine,” my father reasoned, pulling off his boots. “You kids get ready for
bed while I wrap mother’s present.”
Then the phone rang.
Father yelled “answer the phone and tell’em we found a home for Jesus.” But it
was mother calling with instructions for us to come to 205 Chestnut Street
immediately, and bring three blankets, a box of cookies and some milk.
“Now what has she gotten
us into?” my father groaned as we bundled up again. “205 Chestnut. Why that’s
across town. Wrap that milk up good in the blankets or it will turn to ice
before we get there. Why can’t we all just get on with Christmas? It’s probably
20-below out there now. The wind is picking up. Of all the crazy things to do
on a night like this.”
When they got to the
house at 205 Chestnut Street it was the darkest one on the block. Only one tiny
light burned in the living room and the moment we set foot on the porch steps,
my mother opened the door and shouted, “They’re here! Oh thank God you got
here, Ray! You kids take those blankets into the living room and wrap up the
little ones on the couch. I’ll take the milk and cookies.
“Would you mind telling me
what is going on, Ethel?” my father asked. “We have just walked through below
zero weather with the wind in our faces all the way.” “Never mind all that
now,” my mother interrupted. “There is no heat in this house and this young
mother is so upset she doesn’t know what to do. Her husband walked out on her
and those poor little children will have a very bleak Christmas, so don’t you
complain. I told her you could fix that oil furnace in a jiffy.”
My mother strode off to
the kitchen to warm the milk while my brother and I wrapped up the five little
children who were huddled together on the couch. The children’s mother
explained to my father that her husband had run off, taking bedding, clothing,
and almost every piece of furniture, but she had been doing all right until the
furnace broke down.
“I’ve been doing washing
and ironing for people and cleaning the five-and-dime,” she said. “I saw your
number every day there, on those boxes on the counter. “When the furnace went
out, that number kept going through my mind, 7162 7162, that is what it said on
the box: ‘If a person is missing Jesus, the should call 7162.’ 7162. That’s how
I knew you were good Christian people, willing to help folks. I figured that
maybe you would help me too. So I stopped at the grocery store tonight and I
called your missus. I’m not missing Jesus, mister, because I sure love the
Lord. But I am missing heat. I have no money to fix that furnace.
“Okay, okay!” said
father. “You’ve come to the right place. Now let’s see. You’ve got a little oil
burner over there in the dining room. Shouldn’t be too hard to fix. Probably
just a clogged flue. I’ll look it over, and see what it needs.”
Father finally go the oil
burner working but said you need more oil. I’ll make a few calls tonight and
get some oil. Yes, sir, you came to the right place, father grinned.
On the way home father
did not complain about the cold weather and had barely set foot inside the door
when he was one the phone.
Ed, hey, how are ya, Ed?’
“Yes, Merry Christmas to you too. Say Ed, we have kindof an unusual situation
here. I know you’ve got that pickup truck. Do you still have some oil in that
barrel on your truck? You do?”
By this time the rest of
the family were pulling clothes out of their closets and toys off of their
shelves. It was long after their bedtime when they were wrapping gifts. The
pickup came. On it were chairs, three lamps, blankets and gifts. Even though it
was 30-below, father let the ride along in the back of the truck.
No one ever did call
about the missing figure in the nativity set, but as I grow older I realize
that it wasn’t a packing mistake at all. Jesus saves – that’s what He does.
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