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Summary: Advent is a time where we can begin to remember that hope can be found in ANY circumstance. Let's not only be reminded of that, but be a part of spreading the light and hope of God in whatever circumstance we find ourselves in.

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A New Beginning:

And a Glimmer of Hope

"A Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it..."

(John 1:5)

"But there will be no more gloom for her who was in anguish...He shall make it glorious...and the people who walk in darkness will see a great light;

those who live in a land of deep darkness, on them the light has come..."

(Isaiah 9:1-2)

Intro:

I LOVE this time of year- it's not just the newness of the beautiful snow, it's not the Christmas music, it's not just the excitement about the presents or the anticipation of the time off for the holiday- there's something MORE in the air that gives an overwhelming sense of love, goodwill, peace and HOPE for all of us. Not just in our own neighborhoods, or towns, not even just in our own country, but across the entire world.

And the reason is the Christmas season brings with it the message of God's gift of hope for all of mankind- regardless of race or age or nationality. It brings with it the truth that we are NOT alone and that there IS hope. Hope for peace, hope for unity, hope that there CAN be hope even in the most depressing or horrifying situations. I want to read a short story to you that I found today that brought tears to my eyes. A story of what the Christmas Spirit- GOD's Spirit provided for a family in the most destitute and hopeless of situations- A WWII Nazi Concentration Camp:

New shoes – and a New Lease on Life:

A Jewish Christmas Story in a Concentration Camp.

(By Ruth Ebenstein)

http://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/voices/2015/12/23/voices-unforgettable-christmas-act-kindness/77771262/

(viewed 11/30/6)

On Christmas Eve 1944, my grandmother urged my uncle, then 12 years old, to sneak out of the concentration camp where they were imprisoned at Strasshof, nearly 15 miles east of Vienna, to go begging.

People are charitable around Christmastime, Grandma Lili said to her son, Gyuri (George in Hungarian). Ask for scraps. Anything they can spare. Tell them that we're on the verge of starvation.

Tell them that your 3-year-old sister cannot get off the bed because she's outgrown her shoes.

I don't want to beg, retorted the boy. I'd rather steal.

That's wrong, scolded his mother. We are not thieves!

They argued back and forth. After a time, her son acquiesced.

In the dark of night, Gyuri snuck out of the camp between two wooden slats and walked the nearly four miles to Deutsch-Wagram, the closest town, shivering in his tattered clothing. On the outskirts he happened upon a house, secluded from the others. He walked up the path and knocked on the front door.

A woman opened that door. She was probably alone, her man far away, fighting in the war, her children asleep in their beds. And it is likely that she suspected that the young boy was Jewish.

The 12-year-old pieced together in German exactly what his mother had told him to say.

Did he hide his ambivalence about begging? Did he charm her even then with his gift of gab?

Come back tomorrow, whispered the woman.

The next day, my uncle returned. The woman opened the door with a smile. She piled his hands with bread, clothing, a pair of shoes that her child had outgrown.


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