Pamplona or Bookstore?

Lemuel stopped in Barnes & Noble Thursday – the place was packed, the checkout line was long, people were walking from aisle to aisle in a hurry, some had their eyes glued to their smart phones.

He asked me, “Where are they all going in such a hurry? Will they know when they’ve arrived?”

“Bob, why go to a bookstore if you are going to have your nose in contact with your smartphone?”

Bookstores used to be peaceful places, somewhat like libraries. Maybe there are times they are still like that, maybe there are times when you can still browse and peruse without risking being trampled on, without thinking you are in Pamplona – but according to Lemuel it wasn’t like that this week.

Jake and Gloria’s Christmas Eve

One of the blessings I’ve enjoyed the past few years is working with Gloria Jacobs. I first met Gloria in the early 1990s when we were both involved in our industry’s state trade association. I always considered Gloria “Ms. Drucker & Falk”, the firm she was with for 35 years and the firm I’ve been with for almost 6 years. While Gloria has been “retired” for over a year now, we still keep in touch for we were more than business associates, we are friends. There are many reasons I’m thankful for Gloria, and one of them is that, as friends, we can talk about life, not just business – which is now behind us – but life; there is nothing quite like sharing the essentials of life with friends.

A few days ago Gloria wrote the following to me and when I asked for her permission to post it on a blog she gave it – it’s a story worth telling.

Good evening Bob.

There is a story I want to share with you tonight.  You asked if we had a good Christmas, but I want to share something that happened 50 years ago on Christmas Eve in Pennsylvania.  Jake's dad had suffered a heart attack and we were at the hospital when a blizzard began. We left the hospital to return to my mother's home about 20 miles away.  It took us about two hours to get home.  Roads and conditions were terrible.  When we arrived home, thankful to be there, my mother met us with two suitcases and told us that Jake's dad had passed away.  She knew we would want to get to Jake’s mother, who was at her home, as soon as possible since she was alone.  

We left my mother's home and tried many roads to get to his mother's, only to turn around and try another route.  We even ran into a snow plow driver and told him what had happened.  He told us if he believed everyone he wouldn't get home that night so he refused to help us.  After many hours in vain of trying to get to her, we ended up on a country road and our car went into a snow drift.  This was before cell phones and it was already some three hours after we left my mother's home.  We left the car and carted our suitcases and found a telephone booth.  We called the State Police to see if they could assist and were told that nothing was moving.  Fortunately, Jake was involved with a Boy Scout Explorer Post (older teenagers) and one of them lived within three miles of where we were.  Jake called them and they told us to get to them as soon as we could.

We walked those three miles in snow that was to our knees in a blinding snow storm.  It was the first time in my life that I actually laid down in the snow after walking about two miles and felt warmth like I had never felt before.  Jake forced me to get up and continue the walk with him.  When we finally arrived at the home of the Boy Scout parents they were waiting for us with blankets and warm food.   We felt good to be safe, but felt we had ruined their Christmas.  We told them we would try to keep quiet until after they celebrated Christmas.  We were able to contact his mother and mine to tell them where we were.

The next morning we slept late as we were both exhausted.  When we entered their kitchen food was waiting as well as information about our vehicle. They had alerted all of the Explorer Post’s teens to what had happened.  They not only had dug out our vehicle, but had plowed the road in the neighborhood, and our car was waiting outside the home we were staying in.  They did this during the early morning hours of Christmas Day.   We were able to get to his mother that morning.

I've never shared this story with anyone before, but for some reason felt I needed to tonight with a dear friend.  It has been 50 years and I can still remember almost every detail.  GOD is Great and he certainly was with us that night.

Also, my mother passed away on December 27th many years ago, so you see Christmas has different meanings to us, but we believe that my mother and Jake's dad are in HIS loving care.  We certainly believe HE was watching over us that Christmas Eve.

Thank you for being my friend, Bob.

g

The House of Christmas

The House of Christmas

By: G.K. Chesterton

There fared a mother driven forth 
Out of an inn to roam; 
In the place where she was homeless 
All men are at home. 
The crazy stable close at hand, 
With shaking timber and shifting sand, 
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand 
Than the square stones of Rome. 

For men are homesick in their homes, 
And strangers under the sun, 
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land 
Whenever the day is done. 
Here we have battle and blazing eyes, 
And chance and honour and high surprise, 
But our homes are under miraculous skies 
Where the yule tale was begun. 

A Child in a foul stable, 
Where the beasts feed and foam; 
Only where He was homeless 
Are you and I at home; 
We have hands that fashion and heads that know, 
But our hearts we lost - how long ago! 
In a place no chart nor ship can show 
Under the sky's dome. 

This world is wild as an old wives' tale, 
And strange the plain things are, 
The earth is enough and the air is enough 
For our wonder and our war; 
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings 
And our peace is put in impossible things 
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings 
Round an incredible star. 

To an open house in the evening 
Home shall men come, 
To an older place than Eden 
And a taller town than Rome. 
To the end of the way of the wandering star, 
To the things that cannot be and that are, 
To the place where God was homeless 
And all men are at home.