Because of Love!!
A brother and sister had made their usual hurried,
obligatory pre Christmas visit to the little farm where dwelt their elderly
parents with their small herd of horses. The farm was where they had grown up
and it had been named Lone Pine Farm because of the huge pine, which topped the
hill behind the farmhouse. Through the years the tree had become a talisman to
the old man and his wife, and a landmark in the countryside. The young siblings
had fond memories of their childhood here, but the city hustle and bustle added
more excitement to their lives, and called them away to a different life.
The old folks no longer showed the horses, for the
years had taken their toll, and getting out to the barn on those frosty
mornings was getting harder, but it gave them a reason to get up in the
mornings and a reason to live. They sold a few foals each year, and the horses
were their reason for joy in the morning and contentment at day's end.
Angry, as they prepared to leave, the young couple
confronted their parents "Why do you not at least dispose of The Old
One." She is no longer of use to you. It's been years since you've had
foals from her. You should cut corners and save so you can have more for
yourselves. How can this old worn out horse bring you anything but expense and
work? Why do you keep her anyway?"
The old man looked down at his worn boots, holes in
the toes, scuffed at the barn floor and replied, " Yes, I could use a pair
of new boots."
His arm slid defensively about the Old One's neck
as he drew her near. With gentle caressing he rubbed her softly behind her
ears. He replied quietly, "We keep her because of love. Nothing else, just
love."
Baffled and impatient, the young folks wished the
old man and his wife a Merry Christmas and headed back toward the city as
darkness stole through the valley.
The old couple shook their heads in sorrow that it
had not been a happy visit. A tear fell upon their cheeks. How is it that these
young folks do not understand the peace of the love that filled their hearts?
So it was, that because of the unhappy
leave-taking, no one noticed the smell of the insulation smoldering on the
frayed wires in the old barn. None saw the first spark fall. None but the
"Old One".
In a matter of minutes, the whole barn was ablaze
and the hungry flames were licking at the loft full of hay. With a cry of
horror and despair, the old man shouted to his wife to call for help as he
raced to the barn to save their beloved horses. But the flames were roaring
now, and the blazing heat drove him back. He sank sobbing to the ground,
helpless before the fire's fury. His wife back from calling for help cradled
him in her arms, clinging to each other, they wept at their loss.
By the time the fire department arrived, only
smoking, glowing ruins were left, and the old man and his wife, exhausted from
their grief, huddled together in front of the barn. They were speechless and
stunned as they rose from the cold snow covered ground. They nodded thanks to
the firemen as there was nothing anyone could do now. The old man turned to his
wife, resting her white head upon his shoulder as his shaking old hands
clumsily dried her tears with a frayed red bandana. Brokenly he whispered,
"We have lost much, but God has spared our home on this eve of Christmas. Let
us gather strength and climb the hill to the old pine where we have sought
comfort in times of despair. We will look down upon our home and give thanks to
God that it has been spared and pray for our beloved most precious gifts that
have been taken from us.
And so, he took her by the hand and slowly helped
her up the snowy hill as he brushed aside his own tears with the back of his
old, withered hand.
The journey up the hill was hard for their old
bodies in the steep snow. As they stepped over the little knoll at the crest of
the hill, they paused to rest, looking up to the top of the hill, the old
couple gasped and fell to their knees in amazement at the incredible beauty
before them.
Seemingly, every glorious, brilliant star in the
heavens was caught up in the glittering, snow-frosted branches of their beloved
pine, and it was aglow with heavenly candles. And poised on its top- most
bough, a crystal crescent moon glistened like spun glass Never had a mere
mortal created a Christmas tree such as this. They were breathless as the old
man held his wife tighter in his arms.
Suddenly, the old man gave a cry of wonder and
incredible joy. Amazed and mystified, he took his wife by the hand and pulled
her forward. There, beneath the tree, in resplendent glory, a mist hovering
over and glowing in the darkness was their Christmas gift. Shadows glistening
in the night light.
Bedded down around the "Old One" close to
the trunk of the tree, was the entire herd, safe.
At the first hint of smoke, she had pushed the door
ajar with her muzzle and had led the horses through it. Slowly and with great
dignity, never looking back, she had led them up the hill, stepping cautiously
through the snow. The foals were frightened and dashed about. The skittish
yearlings looked back at the crackling, hungry flames, and tucked their tails
under them as they licked their lips and hopped like rabbits. The mares that
were in foal with a new years crop of babies, pressed uneasily against the
"Old One" as she moved calmly up the hill to safety beneath the pine.
And now she lay among them and gazed at the faces of the old man and his wife.
Those she loved she had not disappointed. Her body
was brittle with years, tired from the climb, but the golden eyes were filled
with devotion as she offered her gift ---LOVE. Because of love. Only Because of
love.
Tears flowed as the old couple shouted their praise
and joy... And again the peace of love filled their hearts.
This is a true story.
Willy Eagle.
Now pause and remember someone you know is Irish and living overseas, or who cannot make it home to be with family and friends.
AN EXILES CHRISTMAS
It was Christmas eve in London,
And an Irishman, called Joe.
Stood by an upstairs window
That looked on the street below.
He could see the shoppers passing by,
Their voices filled with cheer.
As they shouted happy Christmas,
And a prosperous new year.
As he looked around the little room,
That for years had been his home.
He was fifty years in London,
Since he crossed the ocean foam.
His youthful days behind him now,
And his working days Long gone.
In retirement, his days were spent
On his own, to carry on.
He could hear a church bell ringing,
On the street across the way.
Where mass was celebrated, on
The eve of Christmas day.
Then a choir started singing, and
The strains of silent night,
Came drifting through the window.
Into Joe's old flat that night.
As he listened to the singing,
He began to shed a tear.
For he always felt emotional,
On Christmas eve each year.
When old memories came flooding back,
And his thoughts began to stray.
To his childhood days in Ireland,
Long ago and far away
He could see again the old thatched house,
At the corner of the lane.
Oh what he'd give to be a lad, and be
back there once again.
The candle in the window,
To light a Welcome way.
For the virgin and the Christ child,
On the eve of Christmas day.
The Holly and the ivy, and the cards
Around the fire.
And his mothers Christmas cooking,
That would fill you with desire.
The boxes left for Santa Claus,
In the hopes that he would call.
With the toys to play on Christmas day,
The happiest times of all.
As his memories began to fade, reality
Set in.
He was back once more in London,
In his little flat again.
And he drew his coat around him, as he
Sat back in his chair.
And for all those in his memories, he
began to say a prayer.
And he asked the Lord, to grant them rest,
In the land beyond the sky.
All the folks he once shared Christmas with,
In the happy years gone by.
Tomorrow at the centre, he will meet his
Old friend jack, an Irishman just like himself.
That never made it back.
They will have their Christmas Dinner,
and a glass or two of beer,
As they join their old acquaintances,
And the friends they love so dear.
Everybody has their party piece,
To raise a bit of cheer.
At their Christmas get together.
In the centre every year.
So to all our Irish exiles, in lands
far off and near.
The blessing of this Christmas time we
wish you all this year.
And although we are divided, by land
and sky, and foam,
A very merry Christmas, from the Irish
Folks at home.
Martin O'Hara © 29/11/2021
