Christmas Coal
courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net
A true story handed down from my husband’s father. I love to share it each year at Christmastime.
On Christmas morning, 1912, in Paducah, Kentucky, fourteen-year-old Charlie Flowers and his three brothers and two sisters huddled in their beds, fully dressed, trying to keep warm as the wind howled outside their small frame house.
It was a desperate time for the family. Earlier that year the children’s father had died. And their mother had not found work. The coal had run out and there was little money––none for gifts. Their scrawny tree with decorations made from scraps of colored paper had been given to them the night before by a local merchant. “Can’t sell this one,” the man said with a nod before handing it over to the eager children.
To pass the time, the siblings joked and shouted stories from their bedrooms across the hallway from one another. Then suddenly a racket from the alley at the rear of the house broke into their games.
Charlie,” his mother called, “would you see what’s going on out there?”
Charlie pulled on his shoes, grabbed a thick overcoat from the hook by the door, and ran out back. There stood a man in a wagon bent over a load of coal, shoveling it into the shed as fast as he could.
“Hey Mister, we didn’t order any coal,” Charlie shouted. “You’re delivering it to the wrong house.”
“Your name’s Flowers, isn’t it?” the man asked, still shoveling.
Charlie nodded yes.
“Well then, there’s no mistake. I’ve been asked to deliver this to your family on Christmas morning.” He looked the awe-struck boy square in the eye. “And I’m under strict orders not to tell who sent it,” he teased.
Charlie ran into the house, his coattail flapping in the cold morning wind. He could hardly wait to tell his mother and brothers and sisters. God had answered their prayers for help. He provided––just as he had on that first Christmas morning so long ago when He sent his only son to a needy world. They would now have a cozy fire to enjoy and Mother could make tea and toast. They would celebrate Christmas after all.
Charlie Flowers died in 1994 at age 96. And right up to the last year of his life, not a Christmas went by that he didn’t tell the story of that sub-zero Christmas morning of his boyhood when two men gave his family an unforgettable gift.
It wasn’t the coal that he remembered or cherished, Charlie often said, welcome as it was, but rather what two men brought to his desperate family. One, for his gift of recognizing their great need and taking the time to do something about it. And the other, for being willing to give up part of his own Christmas morning to deliver it.
That gift of coal so long ago has continued to warm the Flowers family from one generation to another, as Charlie’s son––my husband, Charles––called to mind each Christmas these two strangers, and whispered “thanks” to God for answering the family’s prayer in the nick of time.
Our God is good–all the time.
Beautiful! My heart is warmed–and not by coal. Love you, Karen!
Thanks, Kathy. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
This thoughtfulness brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing it. And I’ve heard you share this story before. It’s so powerful. Have a wonderful holiday, Karen. Your heart is filled with Jesus, and I love that.
Thank you, Barb. I appreciate you.
So Love the story, Karen.
May GOD Richly Bless you and all those you love.
MERRY CHRISTmas.
JESUS, THE REASON FOR THE SEASON.
Love,
Jay and Linda
Thank you, Jay. See you both on Christmas.
Beautiful story. What a life lesson of God providing.
Thanks, Pam. God is good no matter what.
Thank you, Karen. That story touched my heart in so many ways. We are blessed to have a savior who loves us unconditionally and does provide all that we need. Not our wants – but our needs.
Karen, may you and yours have wonderful Christmas.
Blessings & Hugs
Joan
Hi Joan. It’s always a pleasure to hear from you. May your family have a beautiful Christmas too, and thank you for enjoying Charles’s true story from his dad.
This makes my eyes water and brings a wonderful smile to my heart! Thanks for sharing Karen and a VERY Merry Christmas to you, and all of yours!
Thanks so much, Patti. I’m grateful to have you as a friend and reader. Merry Christmas to you and yours, as well.
I love this story and the way that you told it, Karen. It made me tear up and be thankful for all that we have been blessed to receive from God—even the stuff we don’t deserve. Grace. Forever grateful for God’s unmerited favor and the kindness of strangers. love, Heidi
Thanks, Heidi. I love this story too–a continual reminder of God’s generosity and grace.
The tears started down my face by the time I finished the first line as I knew the story! Your Charles had sent it to me in the book he was writing and it touched my heart and it still does! Thanks for sharing it with us, Karen. It is a story that needs to be handed down from Generation to Generation!
Merry Christmas! Margaret
Yes, thanks, Margaret. It is a story to keep moving through the generations. Merry Christmas to you and Tanya and her family.
Thank you dear Karen God is good. All the very best to you and your family. Love Wendy x
Wendy, how good to hear from you. May your Christmas be blessed.
This is a heartwarming true story. I believe people had hope back then, regardless of their hardships!