Christmas Devotionals.original Set Up Pictures

8/14/2019 Christmas Devotionals.original Set Up Pictures

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/christmas-devotionalsoriginal-set-up-pictures 1/16

CCCC hristmas DDDDevotionalsDuring the month of December our family gathers each night before bed and has a CHRISTMAS DEVOTIONAL. We love taking 5-15 min. each night to

focus on what really matters this Season!

Turning out the lights sets a great mood and removes distractions

Closing with a small treat helps kids everyone sit quietly so they can get the treat

This is a wonderful gift for friends & family

3 Ring Binder with a pocket in the front (1” – 2”) slip first picture in the front

of your book Clear Sheet Protectors (for holding all the stories and pictures)

Tabs (you can make these or purchase ones that reach past the sheet protectors)

A Christmas Tin or Box and fill it with assorted small Christmas candies Print off Pages to Label each section & any stories you want

Gather any short Christmas stories you already have (or find lots on the internet or at the library)

Gather any pictures of the Nativity you already have

1111 Print off Pages and slip them in sheet protectors to label the different sections 2222 Place any pictures you have behind the pictures section 3333 Place any stories you have or print some to put behind the stories section 4444 Print off scriptures to put behind the scripture section 5555 Print off songs to put behind the songs section 6666 Start collecting stories and pictures to add to your Christmas Devotionals through the

years!

Using your Christmas Devotional Binder:1. Turn out the lights & light a candle2. Start with a Christmas Song3. Read a Christmas Scripture4. Read a Christmas Story 5. Close with a family prayer6. Enjoy a small treat

Su lies Needed:Su lies Needed:Su lies Needed:Su lies Needed:

To MakeTo MakeTo MakeTo Make Your Binder:Your Binder:Your Binder:Your Binder:



C hrist mas

Devot ionals



C CC Ch hh hriririris ss sttttm mm maaaas ss s

SSSSttttor or or oriiiieeees ss s



ChristmasChristmasChristmasChristmas

PicturesPicturesPicturesPictures



CCCC hristmas

MMMM usic



Christmas

SSSScriptures



Scriptures:

And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we writeaccording to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission otheir sins.

2 Nephi 25:26

For the time cometh, and is not far distant, that with power, the Lord Omnipotent who reigneth, who wasand is from all eternity to all eternity, shall come down from heaven among the children of men, andshall dwell in a tabernacle of clay, and shall go forth amongst men, working mighty miracles, such ashealing the sick, raising the dead, causing the lame to walk, the blind to receive their sight, and the deato hear, and curing all manner of diseases.

Mosiah 3:5

And he shall be called Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Father of heaven and earth, the Creator of allthings from the beginning; and his mother shall be called Mary.

Mosiah 3:8

And moreover, I say unto you, that the time shall come when the knowledge of a Savior shall spreadthroughout every nation, kindred, tongue, and people.

Mosiah 3:20

And behold thou shalt conceive in thy womb and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.Luke 1:31

Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel,which being interpreted is, God with us.

Matthew 1:23

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be asign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

Luke 2:11,12

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: andhis name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince ofPeace.

Isaiah 9:6

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.John 14:6

If ye love me, keep my commandments.John 14:15

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not yourheart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

John 14:27



A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also loveone another.

John 13:34

Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you,and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke ieasy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30

Blessed are the pure in heart; for they shall see God.Matthew 5:8

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.John 15:13

In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.John 16:33

I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.John 11:25

And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the wormight be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains the this sicknesses of his people.

Alma 7:11

And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and hewill take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, thathe may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.

Alma 7:12

For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent.Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit – and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrin

– nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children ofmen.

D&C 19:16,18-19

Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit: and having said thus, he gave up the ghost.Luke 23:46

He is not here, for he is risen as he said.Matthew 28:6

For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.Job 19:25

And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all,which we give of him: That he lives! For we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard thevoice bearing record that he is the Only Begotten of the Father.

D&C 76:22-23



CCCC hristmas hristmas hristmas hristmas MMMM usic usic usic usicHYMNS:

Angels We Have Heard on High Swetly singing o’er the plains, And the mountains in reply EchoingPg. 203

Away in a Manger, no crib for his bed, The little Lord Jesus Laid down his sweet head; The starsPg. 206

Far, Far Away on Judea’s plains, Shepherds of old heard the joyous strains: Glory to GodPg. 212

Hark! The Herald angels sing Glory to the newborn King! Peace on earth and mercy mild,Pg. 209

I Heard the Bells on Christmas day Their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the wordsPg. 214

It Came Upon A Midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earthPg. 207

Joy to the World, the Lord is come; Let earth receive her King! Let every heart prepare him room,Pg. 201

Oh, Come, All Ye faithful, Joyful and triumphant! Oh, come ye, oh, come ye to Bethlehem.Pg. 202

O Little Town of Bethlehem, How still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep,Pg. 208

Once in Royal David’s City Stood a lowly cattle shed, Where a mother laid her baby In a manger

Pg. 205

Silent Night! Holy Night! All is calm, all is bright Round yon virgin mother and Child. Holy Infant,Pg. 204

The First Noel the angel did say Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay,Pg. 213

While Shepherds watch’d their flocks by night, All seated on the ground, The angel of the LordPg. 211

With Wondering Awe the wise men saw The star in heaven springing, And with delight,

Pg. 210

PRIMARY SONGBOOK:

Christmas Bells are Ringing. Hear what they say to you; Jesus is born, in Bethlehem,Pg. 54Stars were gleaming, shepherds dreaming; And the night was dark and chill. Angels’ story rangPg. 37Once within a Lowly Stable, Where the sheep and oxen lay, A loving mother laid her babyPg. 41



The Christmas Orange (you could share a chocolate orange the night you read this story)

I'd like to tell you a story my grandmother told me when I was six or seven years old. We had gone to he

home for Thanksgiving dinner and the drive was rather a long one. I had filled the time with making a lisof all the things that I wanted for Christmas that year.

Later that evening after I was ready for bed, I showed the list to my grandmother. After she read it, she

said, "My goodness, that really is a long list!" Then she picked me up and set me on her lap in the big

rocking chair and told me this story:

"Once there was a little girl who came to live in an orphanage in Denmark" (Now my grandmother was

from Denmark, so this story might even be true.) "As Christmas time grew near, all of the other children

began telling the little girl about the beautiful Christmas tree that would appear in the huge downstairs ha

on Christmas morning. After their usual, very plain breakfast, each child would be given their one and

only Christmas gift; small, single orange."

At this point I looked up at my grandmother in disbelief, but she assured me that was all each child woul

receive for Christmas.

"Now the headmaster of the orphanage was very stern and he thought Christmas to be a bother. So on

Christmas Eve, when he caught the little girl creeping down the stairs to catch a peek at the much-heard-

of Christmas tree, he sharply declared that the little girl would not receive her Christmas orange because

she had been so curious as to disobey the rules. The little girl ran back to her room broken-hearted and

crying at her terrible fate."

"The next morning as the other children were going down to breakfast, the little girl stayed in her bed. Sh

couldn't stand the thought of seeing the others receive their gift when there would be none for her."

"Later, as the children came back upstairs, the little girl was surprised to be handed a napkin. As she

carefully opened it, there to her disbelief was an orange all peeled and sectioned."

"How could this be?" she asked.

"It was then that she found how each child had taken one section from their orange and given it to her so

that she, too, would have a Christmas orange."

How I loved this story! I would ask my grandmother to tell it to me over and over as I grew up. Every

Christmas, as I pull a big, juicy orange from my stocking, I think of this story. What an example of the

true meaning of Christmas those orphan children displayed that Christmas morning. How I wish the

world, as a whole would display that same kind of Christ-like concern for others, not just at Christmas,

but throughout the year. --- Author Unknown ---



BOY LEARNS A LESSONBy Thomas Monson

In about my tenth year, as Christmas approached, I longed for an electric train. Thetimes were those of economic depression, yet Mother and Dad purchased for me alovely electric train. Christmas Morning, bright and early, I thrilled when I noticed mytrain. The next few hours were devoted to operating the transformer and watching theengine pull its cars forward then backwards round the track.

Mother said that she had purchased a wind-up train for Widow Hanson's boy, Mark, wholived down the lane at Gale Street. As I looked at his train, I noted a tanker car which I

much admired. I put up such a fuss that my mother succumbed to my pleading and gaveme the tanker car. I put it with my train set and felt pleased. Mother and I took theremaining cars and the engine down to Mark Hansen.

The young boy was a year or two older than I. He had never anticipated such a gift. Hewas thrilled beyond words. He wound the key in his engine, it not being electric norexpensive like mine, and was overjoyed as the engine and three cars, plus a caboose,went around the track.

I felt a horrible sense of guilt as I returned home. The tanker car no longer appealed tome. Suddenly, I took the tank car in my hand, plus an additional car of my own, and ran

all the way down to Gale Street and proudly announced to Mark, "We forgot to bring twocars which belong to your train."

I don't know when a deed had made me feel any better than that experience as aten-year old boy.



THE GIFT OF LOVE THE GIFT OF LOVE THE GIFT OF LOVE THE GIFT OF LOVE By Thomas S. Monson

When I was a very young bishop, in 1950, there was a tap at my door and a good German brother froOgden, Utah, announced himself as Karl Guertler. He said, "Are you Bishop Monson?" I answered the affirmative. He said, "My brother and his wife and their family are coming from Germany. They agoing to live in your ward. Will you come with me to see the apartment we have rented for them?"

On the way to that apartment, he told me he had not seen his brother for something like 30 years. Yall through the holocaust of World War II, his brother, Hans Guertler, had been faithful to the Church; aofficer in the Hamburg branch.

I looked at that apartment. It was cold; it was dreary; the paint was peeling from the walls; the cupboardwere bare. What an uninviting home for the Christmas season of the year! I worried about it andprayed about it, and then in our ward welfare committee meeting we did something about it. The grouleader of the high priests said, "I am an electrician. Let's put good appliances in that apartment." Thgroup leader of the seventies said, "I am in the floor covering business. Let's install new floor coveringsThe Elders Quorum President said, "I am a painter. Let's paint that apartment." The Relief Socierepresentative spoke up. "Did you say those cupboards were bare" (They were not bare very long, wi

the Relief Society in action.) Then the young people, represented through the Aaronic Priesthoogeneral secretary said. "Let's put a Christmas tree in the home and let's go among our young peopand gather gifts to place under the tree."

You should have seen that Christmas scene, when the Guertler family arrived from Germany in clothinwhich was tattered and with faces which were drawn by the rigors of war and deprivation. As they weinto their apartment they saw what had been in actual fact a transformation; a beautiful home. Wspontaneously began singing, "Silent night! Holy night! All is calm; all is bright." We sang in Englisthey sang in German. At the conclusion of that hymn, Hans Guertler threw his arms around my necburied his face in my shoulder, and repeated over and over again those words which I shall never forge"Mein brudder, mein brudder, mein brudder."

As we walked down the stairs that night, all of us who had participated in making Christmas come alivin the lives of this German family, reflected upon the words of the Master: "Inasmuch as ye have doneunto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Matthew 25:40



Christmas SkatesChristmas SkatesChristmas SkatesChristmas Skates

By Elizabeth English

Herman and I finally locked our store and dragged ourselves home.

It was 11:00 p.m. Christmas Eve. We'd sold almost all of our toys; and all of the layaways, except onpackage, had been picked up. But the person who had put a dollar down on that package nevappeared. Early Christmas morning our 12-year-old son Tom, and Herman and I were out under thtree opening up gifts. But, there was something humdrum about this Christmas. Tom was growing uand I missed his childish exuberance of past years. As soon as breakfast was over, Tom left to visfriends, and Herman disappeared into the bedroom, mumbling, "I'm going back to sleep."

So there I was alone. It was nearly 9:00 a.m. and sleet mixed with snow cut the air outside. Sure gladdon't have to go out on a day like today, I thought to myself. And then it began. Something I'd nev

experienced before. A strange, persistent urge. "Go to the store," it seemed to say. That's crazy, I sato myself. No one opens shop on Christmas Day. For an hour I fought that strange feeling. Finallycouldn't stand it any longer, and I got dressed. I put on my wool coat and tam on my head, then mgaloshes and scarf and gloves. Once outside the wind cut right through me, and sleet stung my cheekI felt ridiculous. I had no business being out in that bitter chill.

There was the store just ahead. But, what in the world? I wondered. In front of the store stood two littboys, huddled together, poorly dressed and half frozen. One about nine, and the other six. "Here shcome?" yelled the older one. "See, I told you she would come," he said. The younger one's face wawet with tears, but when he saw me his eyes opened wide and his sobbing stopped. "What are you twchildren doing out here?" I scolded, hurrying them into the store. "We've been waiting for you," repliethe older brother. "My little brother Jimmy didn't get any Christmas. We want to buy some skateThat's what he wants." I looked at the three dollars in his hand, and at their expectant faces. Thenlooked around the store. "I'm sorry," I said, "but we have no ska ... " Then my eye caught sight of thlayaway shelf with its one lone package. Could it be ... ? I walked over and unwrapped the packagMiracle of miracles, there was a pair of skates!

Jimmy reached for them. Lord, I said silently, let them be his size. And miracle added upon miraclthey were his size. When the older boy finished tying the laces and saw that the skates fit perfectly hstood up and presented the dollars to me. "No, I'm not going to take your money," I told him. "I wayou to have these skates, and use your money to get some gloves for your hands." What I saw Jimmy's eyes was like a blessing. It was pure joy, and it was beautiful. My low spirits rose.

As I locked the door, I turned to the older brother and said, "How lucky that I happened to come alonwhen I did. How did you boys know I would come?" I wasn't prepared for his reply. His gaze wasteady, and he answered me softly. "I knew you would come," he said. "I asked Jesus to send you."

The tingles in my spine weren't from the cold, I knew. God had planned this. As we waved good-byeturned home to a brighter Christmas than I had left.



THE EXPECTED GUESTTHE EXPECTED GUESTTHE EXPECTED GUESTTHE EXPECTED GUEST

Anne Mccolum Boyles

There once lived in the city of Marseilles an old shoemaker, loved and honored by his neighbors, wh

affectionately called him Father Martin. One Christmas Eve as he sat alone in his little shop reading of the visit the wise men to the infant Jesus, and of the gifts they brought, he said to himself: If tomorrow were the firChristmas, and if this Jesus were to be born in Marseilles this night, I know what I would give him! He rose frohis stool and took from a shelf overhead two tiny shoes of softest snow-white leather, with bright silver buckles.would give him these, my finest work. Then he paused and reflected. But I am a foolish old man. The Masthas no need of my poor gifts.

Replacing the shoes, he blew out the candle and retired to rest. Hardly had he closed his eyes, it seemed, whehe heard a voice call his name. 'Martin! Martin!' Intuitively he felt a presence. Then the voice spoke. 'You havwished to see me. Tomorrow I shall pass your window. If you see me, and bid me enter, I shall be a guest your table.'

Father Martin did not sleep that night for joy. Before it was dawn he rose and swept and tidied up his little shoHe spread fresh sand on the floor, and wreathed green boughs of fir along the rafters. On the spotless linecovered table he placed a loaf of white bread, a jar of honey and a pitcher of milk. When all was ready he took uhis vigil at the window. Presently an old street sweeper passed by, blowing upon his thin, gnarled hands to warthem. 'Poor fellow, he must be half frozen' he thought. 'Come in my friend and warm yourself and drisomething hot.' And the man gratefully accepted. An hour passed and Martin saw a young, miserably clothewoman, carrying a baby. She paused wearily to rest in the shelter of his doorway. The heart of the old cobblwas touched. Quickly he flung open the door. 'Come in and warm while you rest. You do not look well.'

'I am going to the hospital. I hope they will take me in, and my baby boy. My husband is at sea and I am without money.'

'Poor child,' cried Martin. 'You must eat something while you are getting warm. No? Then let me give a cup milk to the little one. Ah! What a bright pretty fellow he is! Why, you have put no shoes on him!'

'I have no shoes for him.' sighed the mother. 'Then he shall have this lovely pair I finished yesterday." AnMartin took down from the shelf the soft little white shoes he had admired the night before. He slipped them othe child's feet ... they fit perfectly. And shortly the poor young mother went on her way, some coins in her hanand tearful with gratitude. And Martin resumed his post by the window. Hour after hour went by and althougpeople passed his window, and many needy souls shared the hospitality of the old cobbler, the expected Guedid not appear. It was only a dream he sighed with heavy heart. I did hope and believe, but He has not come.

Suddenly, so it seemed to his weary eyes, the room was flooded with a strange light. And to the cobblerastonished vision there appeared before him, one by one the poor street sweeper, the sick mother and child, an

all the other people whom he had aided during the day. And each smiled at him and said: 'have you not seeme? Did I not sit at your table?' And they vanished from view.

At last out of the silence Father Martin heard again the gentle voice repeating the old familiar words: 'Whosoevshall receive one such in my name, receiveth me ... for I was hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty anye gave me drink; I was a stranger and ye took me in ... inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least othese my brethren, ye have done it to me.'



The OldThe OldThe OldThe Old BlueBlueBlueBlue BikeBikeBikeBike

It was a Christmas when my three older sisters were 12, 10, and 7 just after my father, a young engineer, had accepted a transfer from

Schenectady, New York, to Los Angeles, California. On Christmas Eve, my mother made preparations for the traditional Christmas

dinner the next afternoon. My sisters took turns trying to keep me and my three-year-old brother from playing baseball with the shining

Christmas tree ornaments. Mother found time to tend our new baby sister.

Amid the bustle of the Christmas Eve excitement, my father was preoccupied. His thoughts kept returning to the used bicycle hidden

carefully in the garage rafters. Next to it lay the boxes holding two brand-new, shining black, matching three-speed bikes which he had

purchased for my two older sisters. The budget strains of Christmas had prevented Dad from buying a third black three-speed for LeanneInstead, he set about restoring the old single-speed, fat-tired bike the older two no longer rode. Scouring pads and elbow grease made the

rusty spokes shine. The inner tubes were patched, and a new coat of paint erased the battle scars of collisions and neglect. A replacemen

set of handgrips made the handlebars look almost new.

My father realized Leanne would probably recognize the old war horse, but he was sure she could be happy just having her own bike. A

in a year or two, when she outgrew this one, he would be able to buy her a brand-new one. Leanne had already received a big share of

hand-me-downs from her older sisters. Many of her clothes, toys, and books had been previously used.

This Christmas Eve, as my mother tucked all of us in bed, Dad commenced his marathon toy and bicycle assembly projects. When he

finished the new, black bicycles, he placed them side by side near the Christmas tree. He then carefully rolled

out and placed the rejuvenated old bike next to the new ones. The stark contrast of the old half-sized, blue

thick-tubed bike against the sleek, black beauties made the revamped two-wheeler suddenly look

small and old- fashioned. Dad reconsidered. Had he made a mistake in trying to redo the old bike

for Leanne? Would she feel slighted? Leanne was too young to understand the economics of family

finances, but she would be quick to spot this injustice perpetrated by Santa Claus: new bikes for he

sisters, the old war horse for her.

A gradual panic swept over Dad as he realized he’d slipped up. Better run to the store and buy a matching bike, quick! But on

Christmas Eve? It was already 11:30 p.m., and the stores would probably be closed. A few hurried telephone calls confirmed the worst.

Everything was closed.

My grandmother, who was visiting for the holidays, tried to comfort Dad. “Don’t worry, Ray. She’ll love the bike. You’ve made it look

just like new.”

Dad was not comforted. He kept imagining the disappointed look on Leanne’s face as she recognized the old hand-me-down. Though it

was very late when he finished the last stocking and exhausted as he was from his assembly projects, Dad did not sleep well that night.

Early Christmas morning, we were poised in our annual positions in the hall—all in a row, youngest to the oldest. It was still dark outsid

but we were already hopping with that special excitement of children on Christmas morning. Dad was in the living room making the

movie camera and lights ready to record our grand entrance. Finally he yelled, “Okay, come on in,” and we blazed through the doorway

like a shot. In a matter of minutes, the beautiful array of packages and ornaments was transformed into a mountain of strewn boxes,

wrappings, and ribbons. My older sisters spotted their black beauties, gave them the once over with due praise and admiration, and move

on to the Christmas tree to locate more presents. Amid the chaos and clutter, Leanne stood firmly next to the old blue bike. She was

touching every part and talking aloud, “Look, it has new grips and new paint! A brand-new seat! Just look at those pedals, and it’s my

very own, my very own bike.”

Leanne didn’t seem to notice there were other presents for her under the tree. She stayed near the bike and repeated the same speech

several times, though no one was listening, no one, that is, except my father. He stood silently on the other side of the room, oblivious to

the rest of the children, the movie camera held low at his side, listening to Leanne. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he witnessed

this perfect acceptance of his imperfect gift.

It has been a long time since the black beauties were worn out and discarded. Even the old war horse was sent to the glue factory years

ago. But the image of my father’s tear-streaked face on Christmas Day reminds me still of the warmth of a Christmas gift well given and

well received.

Joel R. Bryan, “The Old Blue Bike,” New Era, Dec 1984, 29



Documents

Christmas Devotionals.original Set Up Pictures