It was rare for it to be so cold and damp here in southern Georgia. Even though it was Christmas Eve the weather seldom became this wretched during the winter months. The legendary red clay roads were treacherously rutted by the local traffic, making travel entirely too slow. The driver of the truck noticed when the rain began forming into sleet and thought about how the return trip would be even more difficult. The old sharecropper houses were few and far between, not a good place to slide into the ditch. But he was used to driving these roads and pushed the thought from his mind.

A quarter of a mile before he reached his destination he pulled over into a drive leading into a cornfield. He sat there for a moment thinking about how warm and snug it was inside the truck’s cab. Gene Autry was singing Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer on the radio while the sleet peppered the roof of the truck making it seem even colder. Having absorbed all of the heat he could, he grabbed a large flat cardboard box from the floor and lunged out the door into the misery.

When his feet touched the ground he almost fell on his back as the sticky clay gave no traction to his boots. Only his hand on the truck door kept him from going down. It wouldn’t be a total disaster but it would still be unpleasant. After slogging around to both sides of the truck and getting mud all over his boots he was glad to get back into the warm cab. He had to sit there for a while to allow the feeling to return to his hands and feet, he had forgotten his gloves again but no biggie.

It didn’t take long to reach his destination after continuing the drive. The old tenant house looked deserted at first but when the truck reached the end of the drive a dim light could be seen coming through a front window. Grabbing a clipboard, the driver once again braved the cold, this time not noticing the misery so much. The truck lights illuminated the way to the front porch. Typical of the times, the old shotgun house was probably as drafty as hell, but smoke was issuing from the chimney as it had done for many winters and for many different souls.

The driver rapped on the front door, forgetting he was not wearing his gloves, and ventured forth his first curse of the day. He quickly forgot the pain as someone was approaching the door. The top part of the door had three rectangular panes of glass through which a small child was peeking out at the man. “Does George Paulk live here” asked the man? “Daddy” the little girl shouted "They’s a man standin’ on thuh po-ach.” A young man, probably in his late twenties, came to the door with a ready smile and opened it as if he knew the driver. “How can I help you mister, are you lost?” the young man asked.

“Not if you are George Paulk” the driver said. “I’ve got a package for you, in fact, I’ve several packages for you, can you give me a hand?” The young man thrust his hands into his work jacket pockets and smiled even bigger. “I ain’t ordered nuthin’ from nobody and my wife ain’t neither” he said. “Well that’s not my concern” the driver said gruffly “this is your stuff and I sure didn’t drive all the way out here in this mess on Christmas Eve just for the hell of it, come give me a hand.” The driver plunged through the headlights knowing the young man would follow. He had to, it was southern manners, something still alive in some parts of the Georgia countryside.

The two men carried six boxes into the hall, placing them carefully on the floor alongside the wall. “Here” the driver said “sign this receipt so I can go home to my family, they are waiting for me to get home for supper.” George Paulk opened the door to a room and said “come in here and let me warm my hands so I can hold the pen, I was chopping kindling right before you drove up.” The driver reluctantly entered the room but noticed how warm and cheerful it seemed. An attractive young lady, Mrs. Paul he assumed, was sitting by the fireplace holding the little girl in her lap. They were stringing popcorn, something the driver had not seen done since his childhood. The little girl’s eyes were shining in the glow of the fire as she sang Silent Night while threading the needle through the kernels of corn.

The child was very thin but she seemed excited by the unexpected visit.  A small cedar tree was the recipient of the popcorn garlands, along with a few handmade aluminum foil ornaments. A thin strand of cheap blinking lights circled the tree, striving uselessly to compete with the flames from the fireplace. The form was finally signed and the driver left in a hurry but sat in his truck for a few moments before driving away.

George went back out into the hallway and brought the packages back into the room. “Where did those boxes come from, daddy” the little girl asked? “As far as I can tell, they came from Santa Claus” George said. “Really George, who sent them” his wife asked. “I don’t know, but they were sent to us on purpose so let’s see what’s in them“ George said.  the first thing he pulled out of the first box was a beautiful doll.  The little girl squealed with delight as she saw the doll and the rest of the gifts were hardly noticed by her as they were opened.

The driver pulled over in the same spot he had stopped before. Once again he paused for a few minutes before braving the cold. But this time it wasn’t because he dreaded the misery, the misery was inside the truck with him. He jumped out, carefully this time, and walked around the truck again. He removed the UPS signs from each side of the truck and placed them back into the box. He exchanged his brown jacket for a much more festive one with tiny Christmas lights blinking around the collar. He was safe now from discovery, at least for the moment.

He had been doing this for over five years, but this delivery was the hardest one of all. He drove over the icy roads absentmindedly while the tears streamed down his face, his chest hurting with sadness only heartbreak can cause. He wondered if he could do this again , knowing he had to because Christmas was worth it. He knew he would do it again, there was no question of it. Before he started delivering Christmas gifts to the poor he had lost the meaning of the holiday. He didn’t intend to lose it again, no matter how tough it was.

The past Christmas Eves had been much easier for the driver. He had learned of families who were on hard times but deserved better. But none of these families had problems as serious as the Paulks. The little girl, Tessie was her name, was very ill. Unlike Tiny Tim, she had no chance to see another Christmas. No matter what her parents did she would be gone from their lives. This was one reason her family lived as they did; her medical care had devastated the family’s finances. But what choice did they have? The driver could hardly see the road for the tears flooding down his cheeks, he pulled over once again.

He reached his farm a half an hour later, parking the truck in the barn. It would be painted to cover the brown color of the UPS fleet once again until next year. By this time he had gotten his feelings together and entered his home to greet his own family. He hoped the doll for Tessie was the right one. It was the same as the one he had bought for his own daughter.

The driver was not a rich man and it took quite a bit of money to pull off his own idea of Christmas. Keeping his acts secret was even harder, only his wife was aware of his deeds and she wholeheartedly approved of them. She even understood about the gifts he bought for the families. They would make do somehow. After all, it was Christmas.

This is just one of many stories about the true Christmas angels. Despite your religion or beliefs there is so much you can do for those in far worse circumstances than you. And there are such people no matter your situation in life. Be thankful for what you have here and now.

Many people give to the poor at Christmas and enjoy doing so. Still others do so because they can tell others how benevolent they are. Try giving to someone in need without claiming any credit whatsoever. This is what Christmas is all about. Do not let anyone tell you different Merry Christmas!