Home for the Holidays

Included are lyrics for "Christmas Shoes" by Newsong

Justin flips through the pages of an old scrapbook his mom made years ago. He sniffles softly, before taking a sip of his hot cocca. "I haven't been home in a long time," he sighs turning towards the man in the chair,"It's not that I didn't want to come home. I miss every inch of my home. I can still smell the sweet aromas of pies and lots of cinnamon. Mom loves cinnamon, and I have a thing for it too," Justin admits slowly, "but today isn't about that. Today's about when I was a little boy.
I remember being eleven years old and being excited about Christmas, even though we were not a wealthy family. My mom knew how to make Christmas good. She had been sick, and it brought me down. But, my mom wasn't going let me be sad on Christmas. She made me promise to have a good time, "because worrying helps nothing." I believed her, and still do to this day.
I felt compelled by Momma's words and thought about what would make her happy. There were these shoes she had seen in the store, but could not afford. I wanted to buy her those with the money I had been saving. I prayed that God would let Momma be there on Christmas with new shoes.
I worked very hard to get those shoes. I walked into the store with my tattered clothes, and people stared at me. They whispered and pointed at the little boy in dingy white clothes. I smiled like little boys do and pretended to look at the model trainsets. I wandered towards the shoes.
"Sir," I said.
I want to buy these, for my Momma, please."
He laughed,"Ok, then do you have the money for these?"
I nodded slowly looking up into his eyes, "Yes, it's in this bag."
I followed him to the cashier box where I stood with a line of people who looked at me strangely, as if I didn't belong with my bag of coins and dollar bills.
One remarked, "Shouldn't you be out playing?"
"Not today Sir," I answered, "I'm Christmas shopping for my mom."
One man with packages on top of packages stood tall as he looked at me. He smiled like he was remembering his youth, as I stepped forward to pay.
I put the pennies on the counter with the bills hoping he'd say it's enough.
Then, he looked at me, "Son, there's not enough here."
I searched my pockets franticly, before turning to the man with all his packages and said, "Momma makes Christmas good at our house. Some years she just does without."
He put some money down, as my eyes grew wide, "Thank you," I said, before running off home.
Momma was waiting for me. As I handed her my gift, she kissed my forehead. "Oh Justin," she sighed. "I love this gift."
I wrapped my arms around her, "Anything for you Momma,"I said.
"That's a very touching story," the reporter remarks, "and now you do "Christmas Shoes" each year for one deserving child."
"They're all deserving. It's so hard to pick just one, and if there are more than one, I'll do it for all of them to see that joy I felt years ago."
"And you're Momma, how is she doing?"
"We've come far since that December day, and she still wears those Christmas Shoes every Christmas."