Once we got home, there was barely time to enjoy our presents. We had to go off to our grandparents' house for our annual Christmas dinner. As we drove down the highway through town, I noticed that the family was there, standing outside the closed gas station. My father was driving very slowly down the highway. The closer we got to the turnoff for my grandparents' house, the slower the car went. Suddenly, my father U-turned in the middle of the road and said, "I can't stand it!" "What?" asked my mother. "It's those people back there at the gas station, standing in the rain. They've got children. It's Christmas. " When my father pulled into the service station, I saw that there were five of them: the parents and three children- two girls and a small boy. My father rolled down his window. "Merry Christmas," he said. "Howdy," the man replied. "You're waiting on the bus?" my father asked. The man said that they were. "Well, that bus isn't going to come along for several hours, and you're getting wet standing here. Winborn's just a couple miles up the road. They've got a shed with a cover there, and some benches," my father said. "Why don't y'all get in the car and I'll run you up there." The man thought about it for a moment, and then he beckoned to his family. They climbed into the car. They had no luggage, only the clothes they were wearing. Once they settled in, my father looked back over his shoulder and asked the children if Santa had found them yet. Three glum faces mutely gave him his answer. "Well, I didn't think so," my father said, winking at my mother, "because when I saw Santa this morning, he told me that he was having trouble finding all, and he asked me if he could leave your toys at my house. We'll just go get them before I take you to the bus stop." All at once, the three children's faces lit up, and they began to bounce around in the back seat, laughing and chattering. When we got out of the car at our house, the three children ran through the front door and straight to the toys that were spread out under our Christmas tree. That was the Christmas when my sisters and I learned the joy of making others happy. When they left, my father reached into his pocket and pulled out two dollars, which was all he had left. He pressed the money into the man's hand. The man tried to give it back, but my father insisted. "Take it. I've been broke before, and I know what it's like when you can't feed your family." We left them there at the bus stop in Winborn. As we drove away, I watched out the window as long as I could, looking back at the little girl hugging her new doll. We can draw a conclusion from the story that   _  .
only you help others heart and soul can you feel more happy God helps those who help themselves Present rose to others with fragrance lingering at hand. Happiness takes no account of time