Note: I originally posted this story of mine on my previous blog (dougputhoff.livejournal.com) in 2011. I thought, considering the times in which we live, It bears reposting. Feel free to replace Gingrich’s name with that of Lord Dampnut, Paul Ryan, or any other Republican.
Newt Gingrich’s Christmas Shoes (based on the song “The Christmas Shoes”)
One Christmas Eve New Gingrich was in a Walmart checkout line, buying the latest Ann Coulter book. In front of him stood a raggedly-clothed boy who looked no more than eight, holding a pair of women’s shoes.
When the boy reached the checkout counter, he gave the shoes to the clerk. Scanning the pricetag, she told the lad how much they cost. Quickly the boy’s face grew sad. He said to the clerk, “I don’t have enough money to buy these shoes.”
He looked at Gingrich. “Please, mister, can you give me some money to help buy these shoes?”
Gingrich answered, “I’m sorry, but that would make you dependent on outside assistance. Why don’t you get a job and earn the money to pay for the shoes?”
Instantly the boys face changed from sorrow to anger. A golden aura surrounded him. He began to grow. His tattered clothes became a robe of the whitest white with a purple sash around the waist. He grew a beard. Scars appeared on His hands and forehead. Gingrich dropped down to his knees. He knew Who was standing in front of him:
The Savior looked sternly upon the kneeling Gingrich, then he said, “Whatever you do to the least of these, You do to Me.”
Next Jesus looked Heavenward. “Father, forgive him. He knows not what he does.”