This is a magical Christmas story that could begin, “Once upon a time,” but I can’t begin that way because it is a true story, and it happened to me.
It was Christmas Eve in the year of 1967. I had been home from my mission for about a year and was living in Calgary. I had been asked by the ward to play Santa Claus. After the evening was over, I went out to eat with some friends and didn’t leave Calgary until 11:00 p.m. I got into my 1957 Buick that was built like a tank and started the 160 miles to Raymond where I planned to spend Christmas at home with my family.
The snow that was already falling as I left Calgary became thicker; and visibility was very poor. A few times when it became impossible to find my bearings, I got out of the car and walked to the edge of the road to find where I was. Traffic was light, and after a while there were no cars at all. My travel was slow, but finally, at about 4:30 a. m. I reached the top of the hill that descends to the Old Man River and then into Lethbridge.
Suddenly, out of the snow, a hand stretched in front of the car. I stopped the car and backed up to find an indigenous man totally covered with snow. He had been with friends until 11:00 p.m. and had managed to walk that far.
He asked if I would drive him home. At first the difficult road conditions made me hesitate, but I thought of the Spirit of Christmas. I did the best I could to brush the snow off and got him into the car. I managed to turn the car around. Then the miracle happened. The raging snowstorm suddenly stopped. I could see the brilliant stars gleaming in the sky. The night was calm and bright. I drove to Kipp. Then I turned out onto the Blood Reserve and drove for about ten miles to the man’s home. When we arrived, he invited me in to celebrate with a drink. I thanked him, but declined and started back toward home.
The night stayed clear and calm until I came to the spot where I had put the man into my car. There the storm began again. I slowly crept into Lethbridge where I stopped at a gas station. Although my gas gauge didn’t work, I reasoned that since I had been driving for so many hours, I was sure to be low on gas.
The second part of the miracle
As I left the gas station the second part of the miracle began. By now the snow was deep, and since the road plows had not yet begun their work, I was in danger of getting stuck in the middle of the highway. As I left the gas station, I saw a set of tire tracks. I thought that even if they only went through Lethbridge, they would help me get home.
I followed them through Lethbridge. When I left the city going south, they were still in front of me. I gratefully traveled to Welling in those tracks and then watched carefully, hoping that I would be able to tell where I should turn east onto Highway 52, my final road to Raymond. The tracks veered left so suddenly that I missed the turn. I had to back up to find and again follow the tracks. I had almost missed the Raymond turn-off.
They led the way into Raymond and to the intersection of Highway 52 and Broadway. To my amazement they turned south on Broadway and continued to 100 South where they turned east. They went right past my parents’ home, where I turned out of those tracks into my parents’ driveway and promptly got stuck, and there my car stayed for the next three days.
The last part of this miracle
The last part of this miracle is still happening. This event has stayed with me throughout my life. The Spirit warms me each time I recall the story that happened so long ago. I am humbled that Heavenly Father allowed me to have such a glorious experience. I share with you my story and my experience of the Savior.
Merry Christmas from the Canada Webpage staff
We all have our own, cherished Christmas story. Record yours as a gift to loved ones and give yourself a moment to accept and to reaffirm the Lord’s love for you.
Merry Christmas and enjoy the Christmas season.