Once upon a time, in a tiny town high up in the mountains, there lived a humble little girl. She wasn’t rich, and she wasn’t famous, but she was very happy. She would work hard at her chores to help her family buy enough food to feed all the hungry mouths. She played happily in the snow as the other people of the town were pushing and shoving each other to get ahead.

It made her sad that the busy people of the town were so mean to one another. After all, she wanted them to enjoy the fresh mountain air, the fluffy clean snow and the grandness of what Mother Nature had given them all to live in.

The hurried townspeople didn’t notice the wonderful, simple things that made her life so full of joy. All they wanted was to get rich, so they never focused on the natural wonders that surrounded them.

One cold winter day, when all the townspeople were preparing for Christmas, the little girl stopped to look at the colorful lights and the pretty holiday decorations. The joy of Christmas filled her heart. It was such a beautiful season, and she didn’t understand why all the people weren’t smiling and filled with the spirit of giving and sharing.

As she sat by the postmaster’s door, happily munching on the Christmas cookies her mother had baked that morning, she could see the people shoving one another for a place in line to mail their Christmas packages. Even though Christmas was only a few days away, the people were yelling at the old, bespectacled postmaster, saying he was too slow. The postmaster had such a small shop, and the people had put off their mailing far too long, but they blamed him, bringing tears to the little girl’s bright blue eyes.

One sorrowful tear rolled off her rosy cheeks and dropped onto her cookies, and suddenly a giant Christmas smile came to her angelic little face.

As she stood in line among the cruel people with frowns on their twisted faces, she continued to beam a cheery broad smile — the only smile in the room.

Slowly, the line of impatient mailers inched closer to the tired, old postmaster. She was close enough now to see beads of sweat on his brow from all his hard, honest work. He had a kind face, wrinkled from years of smiles. Poor old man, she thought. Such a decent fellow being treated so badly.

Finally, after being jostled for what seemed like forever, the tiny figure in old, torn clothes with the small box in her hands made it to the edge of the postmaster’s counter.

All the kind old man could see when he looked down through his sweat-smeared glasses was a tattered hat atop sparkling blue eyes and a giant Christmas smile. It warmed the old clerk’s heart. Soon he forgot about the curses and the madness of the crowd in his shop.

Then, just as the jeers were rising to a deafening crescendo, two tiny hands rose slowly but with purpose from below the smiling face with a box that she placed in front of the kind, old postmaster.

“Merry Christmas,“ whispered the little girl. “These cookies are for you.”

The old postmaster smiled at the crowd and had a very merry Christmas.

Be kind to your family and friends. Pray for your enemies. Jesus was born to save our souls.

Merry Christmas!

Kim McGahey’s column “Conservative Common Sense” publishes Tuesdays in the Summit Daily News. McGahey is a real estate broker, tea party activist and Republican candidate. He has lived in Breckenridge since 1978. Contact him at kimmcgahey@gmail.com.