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Shelly's blog: "Holidays"

created on 11/17/2007  |  http://fubar.com/holidays/b155695
Twas the month before Christmas When all through our land, Not a Christian was praying Or taking a stand. See the PC Police had taken away The reason for Christmas - no one could say. The children were told by their schools not to sing, about the shepherds, wise men, angels and things. "It might hurt people's feelings", the teachers would say "December 25th is just a 'Holiday'." Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, checks and credit, Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it! CD's from Madonna, an X-Box, an Ipod Something was changing, something quite odd! Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda. As Targets were hanging their trees upside down, At Lowe's the word "Christmas" was nowhere to be found. At K-Mart and Staples and Penney's and Sears You won't hear the word "Christmas"; it won't touch your ears. "Inclusive", "sensitive", "di-ver-si-ty" Are words that are used to intimidate me. Now Daschle, now Darden, now Sharpton, Wolf and Blitzen, On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton! At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter, To eliminate Jesus in all public matter. And we spoke not a word as they took away our faith Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace. The true Gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded. The reason for the season stopped before it started. So, as you celebrate "Winter Break" under your "Dream Tree" Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me. Choose your words carefully; choose what you say. And shout "MERRY CHRISTMAS", not "Happy Holidays"!
Christmas Carols for the Psychiatrically Challenged Schizophrenia - Do You Hear What I Hear? Multiple Personality Disorder - We Three Kings Disoriented Are Dementia - I Think I'll Be Home For Christmas Narcissistic - Hark The Herald Angels Sing About Me Manic - Deck The Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Offices and towns and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and... Paranoid - Santa Claus Is Coming To Get Me Borderline Personality - Thoughts Of Roasting On An Open Fire Personality Disorder - You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why Obsessive Compulsive - Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle, Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells..............
date: December 2006 Our Christmas Holiday! I HAD A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR! I GOT TO SPEND THE HOLIDAY WITH MY FAMILY AND MY KIDS. I WAS EXCITED WHEN I WOKE AND SAW THE EXPRESSIONS ON MY KIDS FACES WHEN THEY SEEN THE PRESENTS UNDER THE TREE AND KNEW THAT SANTA HAD CAME. THE KIDS JUMPED RIGHT IN AND QUICKLY OPENED EVERYTHING THEY HAD. I WAS HAPPY WHEN THEY SAID "THANKYOU" & WAS EXCITED FOR WHAT THEY GOT. SEEING THIER FACES LIGHT UP IS SOMETHING I WON'T EVER FORGET. NOW IT WAS TIME FOR THE ADULTS TO OPEN THIER PRESENTS & I REALLY ENJOYED WHAT I GOT FROM EVERYONE. AFTER ALL PRESENTS WERE OPENED BY EVERYONE IT WAS THEN TIME TO RUSH AROUND AND GET THE DINNER STARTED ALONG WITH ALL THE PIES, COOKIES ETC. THEN OF COURSE THERE IS ALSO RUSHING AROUND FOR EVERYONE TO GET ALL DRESSED UP TO TRAVEL OVER TO GRANDMA'S HOUSE FOR GIFT EXCHANGE. THE BOYS GAVE ME A HARD TIME OF COURSE CAUSE THEY DIDN'T WANT TO WEAR THIER SUITS AND TIES. MY GIRLS WERE GOOD CAUSE THEY LOVE TO DRESSED UP AND LOOK PRETTY. THEN IT WAS COMING BACK HOME FROM GRANDMA'S AND TRYING TO FINISH UP THE MEAL WE STARTED SO WE CAN EAT. THE KIDS PLAYED WHILE WE DID THE COOKING & TRIED OUR VERY BEST TO MAKE OUR GUESTS COMFORTABLE. ONE THING THAT ALWAYS GETS SAID EVERY YEAR IS ....... "I" OR "WE" DIDN'T HAVE THAT WHEN WE WERE LITTLE. ONCE THE MEAL IS DONE, EVERYONE SITS DOWN TO EAT AND USUALLY STUFF THEMSELVES. AFTER ALL THIS IS THE DAY NO ONE CARES ABOUT THIER WEIGHT. ONCE EVERYONE HAS STUFFED THEMSELVES WITH ALL THE FOOD THEY CAN EAT,IT'S USUALLY TIME TO RELAX BEFORE SAYING GOODBYE TO ALL THE GUESTS WHO HAD COME OVER. ONCE THE GUESTS ARE GONE IT'S TIME TO CLEAN UP THE HOUSE & WASH ALL THE DISHES. THEN IT'S TIME TO TEND TO THE KIDS BY PUTTING THEM TO BED FOR THE NIGHT AND HOPE TO GET SOME PEACE & QUIET BEFORE GOING TO BED YOURSELF. Currently listening : Too Little Too Late By Jojo
A Different Christmas Poem The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light, I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight. My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, My daughter beside me, angelic in rest. Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a winter delight. The sparkling lights in the tree I believe, Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve. My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep, Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep. In perfect contentment, or so it would seem, So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream. The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near, But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear. Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow. My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, And I crept to the door just to see who was near. Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night, A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight. A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old, Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold. Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled, Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child. "What are you doing?" I asked without fear, "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here! Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve, You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!" For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift, Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts.. To the window that danced with a warm fire's light, Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right, I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line, That separates you from the darkest of times. No one had to ask or beg or implore me, I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me. My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December," Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers." My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ', And now it is my turn and so, here I am. I've not seen my own son in more than a while, But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile. Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag, The red, white, and blue... an American flag. I can live through the cold and the being alone, Away from my family, my house and my home. I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet, I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat. I can carry the weight of killing another, Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.. Who stand at the front against any and all, To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall." "So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright, Your family is waiting and I'll be all right." "But isn't there something I can do, at the least, "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast? It seems all too little for all that you've done, For being away from your wife and your son." Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, "Just tell us you love us, and never forget. To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone, To stand your own watch, no matter how long. For when we come home, either standing or dead, To know you remember we fought and we bled. Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
Christmas Jokes What do monkeys sing at Christmas ? Jungle Bells, Jungle bells.. ! Why are Christmas trees like bad knitters ? They both drop their needles ! What's Christmas called in England ? Yule Britannia ! What did the bald man say when he got a comb for Christmas ? Thanks, I'll never part with it ! Why is a burning candle like being thirsty ? Beacause a little water ends both of them ! What do you get if you cross an apple with a Christmas tree ? A pineapple ! What do you give a train driver for Christmas ? Platform shoes ! What did the big candle say to the little candle ? I'm going out tonight ! Whats happens to you at Christmas ? Yule be happy ! How long does it take to burn a candle down ? About a wick !
THE CHRISTMAS TOY TRAIN......
A FEW DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, A MOTHER WAS WORKING IN THE KITHEN, LISTENING TO HER SON PLAYING WITH HIS NEW TRAIN IN THE LIVING ROOM. SHE HEARD THE TRAIN STOP & HEARD HER SON SAY " ALL YOU SON OF BITCHES WHO WANT OFF, GET THE HELL OFF NOW CAUSE THIS IS THE LAST STOP, & ALL YOU SON OF BITCHES WHO ARE GETTING ON, GET YOUR ASSES IN THE TRAIN CAUSE WE'RE LEAVING!"
THE MOTHER WENT IN & TOLD HER SON, "WE DON'T USE THAT KIND OF LANGUAGE IN THIS HOUSE. NOW I WANT YOU TO GO TO YOUR ROOM FOR TWO HOURS. WHEN YOU COME OUT YOU MAY PLAY WITH TRAIN BUT I WANT YOU TO USE NICE LANGUAGE."
TWO HOURS LATER, SON COMES OUT OF THE BEDROOM AND RESUMES PLAYING WITH HIS TRAIN. SOON THE TRAIN STOPPED AND THE MOTHER HEARD HER SON SAY, " ALL THE PASSENGERS WHO ARE DISEMBARKING THE TRAIN, PLEASE REMEMBER TO TAKE ALL OF YOUR BELONGINGS WITH YOU. WE THANK YOU FOR RIDING WITH US TODAY AND HOPE YOUR TRIP WAS A PLEASANT ONE, & HOPE YOU RIDE WITH US AGAIN SOON. FOR THOSE OF YOU BOARDING, WE ASK YOU TO STOW ALL OF YOUR HAND LUGGAGE UNDER YOUR SEAT. REMEMBER THERE IS NO SMOKING EXCEPT IN THE CLUB CAR. WE HOPE THAT YOU WILL HAVE A PLEASANT AND RELAXING JOURNEY WITH US TODAY. FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE PISSED OFF AT THE TWO HOUR DELAY, PLEASE SEE THE BITCH IN THE KITCHEN!"
A Beautiful Christmas Story Three years ago, a little boy and his Grandmother went to see Santa at the Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin. The child Climbed up on his lap, holding a picture of a little girl. "Who is this?" asked Santa, smiling. "Your friend? Your sister?" "Yes, Santa," he replied. "My sister, Sarah, who is very sick," he said sadly. Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby, and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue. "She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!" the child exclaimed. "She misses you," he added softly. Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy's face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas. When they finished their visit, the Grandmother came over to help the child off his lap, and started to say something to Santa, but halted. "What is it?" Santa asked warmly. "Well, I know it's really too much to ask you, Santa, but .." the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa's elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors. "The girl in the photograph... My granddaughter well, you see ... She has leukemia and isn't expected to make it even through the holidays," she said through tear-filled eyes. "Is there any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That's all she's asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa." Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do. Santa thought of little else the rest of that afternoon. He knew what he had to do. "What if it were MY child lying in that hospital bed, dying," he thought with a sinking heart, "this is the least I can do." When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, he retrieved from his helper the name of the hospital where Sarah was staying. He asked the assistant location manager how to get to Children's Hospital. "Why?" Rick asked, with a puzzled look on his face. Santa relayed to him the conversation with Sarah's grandmother earlier that day. "C'mon.... I'll take you there," Rick said softly. Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in. A pale Rick said he would wait out in the hall. Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed. The room was full of what appeared to be her Family; there was the Grandmother and the girl's brother he had met earlier that day. A woman whom he guessed was Sarah's mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah's thin hair off her forehead. And another woman who he discovered later was Sarah's aunt, sat in a chair near the bed with weary, sad look on her face. They were talking quietly, and Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah. Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, "Ho, ho, ho!" "Santa!" shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him, with the IV tubes in tact. Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son -- 9 years old -- gazed up at him with wonder and excitement. Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes. His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears. Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah's face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room. As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside. One by one, squeezing Santa's shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering "thank you" as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes. Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she'd been a very good girl that year. As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl's mother. She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah's bed, holding hands. Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels. "Oh, yes, Santa... I do!" she exclaimed. "Well, I'm going to ask that angels watch over you, "he said. Laying one hand on the child's head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease. He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing softly, "Silent Night, Holy Night....all is calm, all is bright." The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all. When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed Again and held Sarah's frail, small hands in his own. "Now, Sarah, "he said authoritatively, "you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!" He knew it was risky proclaiming that, to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he "had" to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could -- not dolls or games or toys -- but the gift of HOPE. "Yes, Santa! "Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room. Out in the hall, the minute Santa's eyes met Rick's, a look passed between them and they wept unashamed. Sarah's mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa's side to thank him. "My only child is the same age as Sarah," he explained quietly. "This is the least I could do." They nodded with understanding and hugged him. One year later, Santa Mark was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap. "Hi, Santa! Remember me?!" "Of course, I do," Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her. After all, the secret to being a "good" Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the "only" child in the world at that moment. "You came to see me in the hospital last year!" Santa's jaw dropped. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest. "Sarah!" he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy -- much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before. He looked over and saw Sarah's mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes. That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus. He had witnessed --and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about -- this miracle of hope. This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, "Thank you, Father. 'Tis a very, Merry Christmas! If you believe in miracles you will pass this on...I did!
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