---------------------- Forwarded by Maria Sandoval/HOU/ECT on 11/27/2000 
07:49 AM ---------------------------


Yolanda Sandoval <Yolanda.Sandoval@Halliburton.com> on 11/27/2000 07:14:57 AM
To: 
cc:  
Subject: FW: Christmas Story




Yolanda Sandoval
KBR Legal Dept.
*713-753-5986
 *713-753-7626
* yolanda.sandoval@halliburton.com

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> > > A NICE ONE TO PASS ONE.
> > >
> > > If this doesn't set you straight about Christmas, nothing will:
> > > In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry
> > > babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone.
> > > The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was
> two.
> > >
> > > Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.
> > > Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway
>     they would scramble to hide under their beds.
> > >
> > > He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries. Now that he
> > > had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no
>     food either.
> > >
> > > If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that
> >   time, certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until
>     they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress.
>     I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find
>     a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant
>     in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car
>     and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would
> > > listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a
> job.
> > >
> > > Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of
> > > town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to
> a
> > > truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny
> owned
> > > the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all
> >   those kids.
> > >
> > > She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in
> >   the morning.  She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night.
> > >
> > > I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for
> > > people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar
>     a night.  She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would
>     already be asleep.
> > >
> > > This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.
> > > That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all
> > > thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big
> Wheel.
> > > When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter
> > > up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money - fully half of
> >   what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added
> >   another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the
>     consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them
>     with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go
> home.
> > >
> > > One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and
> found
> > > four tires in  the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no
> nothing,
> > > just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in
> > > Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the owner of the local service
>     station.  In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up
>     his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than
>     it did for him to do the tires.
> > >
> > > I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't
> > > enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money
> > > for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started
> > > repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement
>     so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.
> > >
> > > Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on
> the
> > > boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair. On Christmas
> >   Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel.
>     These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper
>     named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the
>     Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars
>     all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning
> and
>     then left to get home before the sun came up.
> > >
> > > When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas
> > > morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up
> > > before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement
>     and place them under the tree. We had cut down a small cedar tree
>     by the side of the road down by the dump. It was still dark and I
> couldn't
>     see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car or was
>     that just a trick of the night?  Something certainly looked different,
>     but it was hard to tell what.
> > >
> > > When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows.
> >   Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was filled
>     full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened
>     the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front
>     facing the back seat.  Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top
> box.
> > >
> > > Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked
> >   inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then
>     I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and nuts
>     and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for
> baking,
>     and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and
>     cookies, pie filling and flour.  There was a whole bag of laundry
> supplies
>     and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful
>     little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly
>     rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with
>     gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little
>     ones that precious morning. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that
>     long-ago  December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.
> > >
> > > THE POWER OF PRAYER
> > > When you receive this, say a prayer. This prayer will do. That's all
> you
> > > have to do. There is nothing attached. This is powerful. Just send
> this
> >   to four people and Do not break this, please.  Prayer is one of the
> best
>     free gifts we receive. There is no cost but a lot of rewards. Let's
>     continue praying for one another. Father, I ask you to bless my
> friends
>     reading this right now. Lord, show them a new revelation of Your love
> and
> power.
> > >
> > > Holy Spirit, I ask You to minister to their spirit at this very
> moment.
>     Where there is pain, give them Your peace & mercy. Where there is self
>     doubting, release a renewed confidence in Your ability to work through
>     them. Where there is tiredness, or exhaustion, I ask You to give them
>     understanding, patience, & strength as they learn submission to Your
>     leading. Where there is spiritual stagnation, I ask You to renew them
> > > by revealing Your nearness, and by drawing them into greater intimacy
> >   with You. Where there is fear, reveal Your love, and release to them
>     your courage. Where there is a sin blocking them, reveal it, and break
> > > its hold over my friend's life. Bless their finances, give them
> greater
> > > vision, and raise up leaders, and friends to support, and encourage
> >   them.  Give each of them discernment to recognize the demonic forces
>     around them, and reveal to them the power they have in You to defeat
> it.
>     I ask You to do these things in Jesus' name. Amen.
> > >
> > > Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both.
> > >
> > > Passing this on to one not considered a friend is something I know
> >   Christ would do.
>  <<Internet HTML>>

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