Captain Howard Truelove walked along the main street of Smartville on his way to his Quarters. He appeared to be deep in thought.

It was Christmas Eve and the snow was beginning to cover the ground. Not too cold, the weather gave promise of a real picturesque, old-fashionedYuletide and the townsfolk were in good spirits.

Yet, tonight as he walked home- ward, the Captain felt somewhat depressed in spirit. Despite the fact that all the joy that comes through helping needy families, visiting the sick and other works of mercy had been his as a Captain in the Salvation Army, he was still downhearted. Only half an hour previous he had, through the help given him by several generous members of the community, been able to gladden the hearts of a destitute (poor) family with a well-filled hamper of goodies. He had smiled at the sight of Joey, the youngest member of the family and just able to talk, clapping his tiny hands, lisping in his baby way, “Now we’ll be able to have a real Klistmas, after all.” “May Heaven bless you, Captain,” the mother had said, after he had a word of prayer with the family, her eyes brimming with tears and her voice trembling with emotion.

That was his last visit of mercy that day but Truelove’s mind did not dwell upon the happiness which his toil and sacrifice had brought to others; he was thinking of something else.

His thoughts were cut short by his arrival at the tiny cottage near the Hall of the Quarters. Putting the key into the lock he opened the door and was soon inside. The fire in the kitchen had burnt low but a few sticks of wood quickly revived it. After a while the kettle began to sing cheerily and the Captain prepared for himself a plain meal.

He had been appointed in charge of the Corps alone but by this time he had become used to being alone. He had received five invitations by friends to share their Christmas dinner. As he did not accept it, he was afraid to offend the others if he had accepted one of their invitations. He got a bright idea “I’ll invite drunken old Jake Miggs to have dinner with me and fix up everything myself. The founder said, ‘Go for the worst,’ and surely there’s no one worse than he in Smartville.” Dropping on his knees the Captain gave thanks to God, he went out to look for Jake. Old Jake lived in a miserable shack outside the town. He rarely did any work, lived poor and was drunk most of the time. Often in his drunken fits, Jake interfered the Army open-air meetings but he had never been inside the Hall.

When Captain Truelove knocked at the door of the shack, Jake bade him inside. “Whad’ye want?” growled Jake who was sitting on the edge of a broken-down camp bed. There was no furniture except a chair and table. Truelove sat down on the chair. “I came to invite you over to my place for Christmas dinner. I’m all alone and I know you might be happy to keep me company. There’s lots to eat.” Jake was very surprised, “Me eat with you —the Army Captain! Why, I hain’t been invited out for twenty years. Anyway, nobody wants a beast of fellow like me.” The Captain spoke gently and persuasively till Jake agreed to come.

On his way home Truelove bought some food. When he reached the Quarters he almost tripped over a large box on the step. He found some kind person had left a piece of bacon, a juicy sirloin beef roast and some loaves of home-made bread. “Thank the Lord!” he said. “This will help us well over Christmas.” He spent most of that night of Christmas Eve praying on his knees for his guest, the worst man in Smartville.

Christmas morning came bright and fair. Truelove thought of his folks on the homestead, a thousand miles or more away. They would be having a great time today. He was determined to make the best meal so he peeled the potatoes and prepared the meat with extra care. When all was nearly ready, the Captain laid the table. He then went to fetch the guest. He found Jake ready for him—he tried to straighten his clothing and tried his best combing his hair. “Merry Christmas,” said Truelove. “Ready to come over?” Jake gave a mumbling response and in silence the two left the shack.

At the Quarters the Captain tried to put his guest at ease and make him feel at home. He showed him into the only rocker he has in the Quarters and told him dinner would be ready in a few minutes. Truelove put on a white apron and busied himself around the kitchen and finally served up a piping-hot meal. Old Jake took a seat at the table and Truelove said grace before they started eating the delicious dinner. Both enjoyed it. When they had finished, Truelove said, “I never leave the table without giving thanks to God. Perhaps you would like to join me.” He knelt down and Jake looked at him in silence. The Captain noticed that out of the corner of one of his guest’s eyes a tear was starting to trickle. His heart, hardened by many years, had been touched by the kindness shown him. Truelove saw in a flash that his outcast was won. God had answered his prayer.

It was a picture to behold. The lad with his finely chiseled face, uplifted in prayer while beside him, sobbing as though his heart would break, crouched old Jake, the drunkard, for whom no one cared. The song of the angels was repeated that Christmas Day because a new born soul had entered the Kingdom of Heaven.