d　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　still　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　Pan　Am；　standing　in　the　rain。　They’ve　got　children。　It’s　Christmas。　I　can’t　stand　it。”

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。　He　was　very　tall　and　had　to　stoop　slightly　to　peer　into　the　car。

Jill；　Sharon；　and　I　stared　at　the　children；　and　they　stared　back　at　us。

“You　waiting　on　the　bus？”　my　father　asked。

The　man　said　that　they　were。　They　were　going　to　Birmingham；　where　he　had　a　brother　and　prospects　of　a　job。

“Well；　that　bus　isn’t　going　to　e　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　you　all　get　in　the　car　and　I’ll　run　you　up　there。”

The　man　thought　about　it　for　a　moment；　and　then　he　beckoned