Merry Christmas ... :) Shangy!
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| | | _ ,_,_ | |_ ,_ ' , _|_,_,_, _ ,
__| | | (/_| | (_| | | || |/_)_| | | |(_|/_)___,
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jgs |'.'.'.| ^^^^^^|____|>>>>>>| ( ~~~ )/ (((((((())))))))
~~~~~~~~ '""""`------' `w---w` `------------'
-----------------------------------------
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All things bright and beautiful, `V-'`\/``
All creatures great and small, * * *
All things wise and wonderful: * *
The Lord God made them all. * .:::.__*
-Cecil Frances Alexander * /'::::\ *\_
(` '::|* / \
__ _.,--`-.`_;/.-/ ;
/` ,\__ _.-' `. `'._.' /|
| ).-' .-'/. ` '._.-._.' / |
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jgs `-._} {_} |_ \ | _.' _/, ``'""-`\ `.__.'
`""{_} /_ / |`= `" `-.( ,__/.
`""""`"` '^' ="`-` `"`
>-->From Truth Or Tradition:
>The Birth of Christ Videos Parts 1-4
The following videos have been converted from VHS format and uploaded
to our Myspace profile. They are low quality recordings of our Free
Indeed series, taught by John Schoenheit.
Visit Here for More:
http://truthortradition.com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=900
Birth Of Christ
======================================================================
>It Was His Idea Story Editor:
Diane Catanzaro Joyce Schowalter
Texas, USA
My husband has, shall we say, a less than supportive father. Out on his
own at 16, he lived first with his brother, then with his sister before
entering the Navy at 17. Robert wanted to be a medic because of his
interest in medicine. His father said "No! Do something that will
guarantee a job later: fix airplanes".
As an aircraft mechanic and sheet-metal worker, Robert was stationed on
the U.S.S. Midway in the Pacific. When he left the Navy there were many
mechanic jobs. Then the airlines deregulated, and he was suddenly
subject to frequent layoffs. Even though Robert was considered skilled
within the blue-collar set, layoffs came about every four years.
Robert had just gotten work after a layoff when we met in 1991. His
language and manners were very rough and I'm much less rough. Yet we
felt a strong connection and married in 1994.
In 1995, two months after learning I was pregnant, Robert was laid off
yet again at 36 years old. This time he was eligible for a training
program, so if he wanted to schooling, someone else would pay for it.
The catch was that it was only for two years and it had to be something
he could be certified in after that two years. In our area, there's a
college with an excellent two-year registered nurse program.
Honestly, I thought he would be eaten alive going into a predominantly
female profession -- especially coming from an environment where
belching contests at lunch were festive affairs.
Yet Robert graduated with honors and has been a registered nurse for ten
years this spring. He still projects the "rough around the edges"
attitude. His coworkers often ask me how I can stand to be married to
him, and they tell him I must be some sort of saint.
When our little girl was born, as I napped in the hospital Robert
watched football with her, explaining all the details, "so she'd get a
head start on understanding".
However, that year my father died, five days before his next birthday.
Robert bought me a present on Dad's birthday, to help me cope "just a
little". And he often gets letters of thanks from patients and their
families.
In 2006 Robert worked for a small private hospital three miles from our
home. He worked on an in-patient floor with one patient in residence
over Christmas, so just two nurses worked Christmas day. Robert called
them about 10 a.m. to see if they had dinner plans. When he found out
they had nothing special planned, he told them he'd bring them food, not
to order in.
When the meal was ready, the first thing he did -- before our meal --
was fix a couple of plates for them, pile our daughter and her Santa hat
in the truck and take his co-workers Christmas dinner.
And ladies, regardless of appearances -- it was his idea.
=======HeroicStories=======
>-->From Our Friend Barbara :)
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\ ) (_)
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{_} () .-'````'-. / ) \
/ `'-. ___ /.------. \| \ ()
\ .-'`___`;/ __ `\ | __ ()
| .'.-'` __'.| o/__\o |/ / /|
\/ / o /__\o\ \\// /; // /
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/ \ .' \-.___.'| || |/ \/
`._ '-/ | || '.___./
. '-.\_.-' __'-._||_.-' _ /
.`""===(||).___.(||)(||)----'(||)===...__
`"jgs"`""=====""""========"""====...__ `""==._
`"=. `"=.
`"=.
>The "W" in Christmas
Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful
experience.
I had cut back on nonessential obligations - extensive card writing,
endless baking, decorating, and even overspending.
Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the
precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of
Christmas.
My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting
season for a six year old.
For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter
Pageant."
I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the
production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his
teacher. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of
the presentation.
All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then.
Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.
So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes
early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the
room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats.
As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class,
accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then,
each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.
Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the
holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun,
commercial entertainment songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes
and good cheer.
So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was
slightly taken aback by its bold title.
Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy
mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads.
Those in the front row- center stage - held up large letters, one by
one, to spell out the title of the song.
As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up
the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each
child holding up his portion had presented the complete message,
"Christmas Love."
The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her;
a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside
down - totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W".
The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little
one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she
stood tall, proudly holding her "W".
Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter
continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it
together.
A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen.
In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we
celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos,
there was a purpose for our festivities.
For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and
clear:
"C H R I S T W A S L O V E"
And, I believe, He still is.
Amazed in His presence... .humbled by His love.
HAVE A BLESSED CHRISTMAS SEASON!
---
...A Sweet Classic - Thank you Barbara!
=================================================================
>-->From InspiredBuffalo:
.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.
. * .
. /.\ .
. /..'\ .
. /'.'\ .
. /.''.'\ ROOM BRIGHTENERS .
. /.'.'.\ .
. /'.''.'.\ By: Joseph J. Mazzella .
. ^^^[_]^^^ .
. .
. .
.jgs .
.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.
My Mom was a real room brightener. I can remember as a child
that every time she entered a room all the people in it would light
up. She had a joyful and loving energy about her that traveled from
person to person. Even people with their backs turned could feel it.
No matter how quietly she would walk into a room they would turn
around, grin, and move to greet her. Everyone just loved being around
her. Her gentle humor and delightful smile gladdened every heart she
touched. Her light filled soul made all those around her shine as
well. Even during the last years of her life when cancer was
destroying her body her spirit still glowed bright.
My Mom left me with a great appreciation for all the room
brighteners in this world. I still see them everywhere. Some of them
sparkle in the bodies of children. Others glow from behind ancient
eyes. Some of them dance into a room with happy feet. Others shine
from the confines of wheelchairs. Some of them dazzle us with their
intelligence. Others brighten our souls with their love even when it
is hidden behind disabled minds. This world is so much better because
of them all. They show us what Heaven can feel like even while we are
still here on Earth.
Henry David Thoreau said: "It is something to be able to paint a
lovely picture, or carve a magnificent statue, but it is far more
glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere in which we live."
That is what room brighteners do. That is what we all can do as well.
We all have love to give, joy to share, and light to shine. We all
can make this world a better place with our laughter, smiles, energy,
and vitality. We all can grow in oneness with God and bring Heaven to
Earth everyday of our lives. God didn't put us here to hide our
light. God put us here to share it with the world. May you always
shine your light then. May you always make every room you enter a
little brighter.
-<>-
.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.
. .
. . . .
. _\/ \/_ .
. >SANTA'S LOVE _\/\/_ .
. _\_\_\/\/_/_/_ .
. / /_/\/\_\ \ .
. _/\/\_ .
. By, Kathleene S. Baker /\ /\ .
. ' ' .
. .
. .
. jgs.
.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:._.:*~*:.
Older folks tend to astound me with their wit and wisdom, and inspire
me with their determination to live life to its fullest. As my own
Dad ages he never ceases to knock my socks off, and last Christmas he
did just that!
The first few years after Mother's death, I made sure Dad did not
spend the holiday in his own home for fear he might dwell on years
past and find no joy in the season whatsoever.
Then finally Dad offered up an invitation to once again come home for
Christmas. He even promised me it would snow in Kansas! That's when
I knew how badly he wanted to host the celebration in his own home;
we assured him we would be there with jingle bells on. I prepared
several dishes that would freeze for traveling, with plans to cook
side by side with Dad for the rest of the holiday feast.
On December 22nd we loaded up the dogs, food items, gifts, and headed
north. The temperature dropped considerably the farther north we
drove and I found myself getting excited even though I was
apprehensive. I just couldn't fathom Dad opening the door alone upon
our arrival.
We rounded the corner of Dad's street and my mouth fell open. Dusk
had fallen and I could see new outdoor decorations. We pulled into
the driveway and were greeted by a herd of twinkling, mechanical
reindeer! I could not believe a man 88 years of age would be buying
new décor, not to mention climbing a ladder to hang lights on the
eaves of his house. The deer were whimsical, but I was ready to
scold him about ladder climbing—after a recent "knee replacement."
Mercy!
Actually, I forgot to scold him! No sooner did we enter the house
than my mouth fell open again! There stood a beautiful, new 6 foot-
tall Christmas tree, with ornaments spaced perfectly. I wondered how
many days he had worked at that. Guess he knew if they weren't
perfect, I'd be puttering around with them. "Gee, Dad, you have a
beautiful new tree! But, what was wrong with your other one?" I was
baffled.
"Oh, I never did like that other tree and Mom said we didn't need a
new one at our ages." His eyes danced and he continued with details
of finding the perfect tree and getting a bargain to boot.
The dining room table was decked out with fine linen; a task I had
assumed would be left for me. I commented on how nice it looked—plus
the fact he had already "dressed the table."
"Thanks," he grumbled, "but didn't you even notice my new candle
holders?"
Oh no! I had hurt his feelings—I made a record-setting, split-second
apology. I still don't know why he needed new ones when there were
several sets in the china cabinet.
Everywhere I looked was a new decoration, or an old favorite from
years gone by, and Christmas CD's played in the background. I was
amazed! How did he do all of this, and how long did it take? Even
though he's still young at heart, his arthritic back is a source of
pure torture. Still, he had somehow managed to create a picture-
perfect holiday happening.
We finally hauled our luggage to the guestroom only to discover
electric candles in the windows and a floral Christmas arrangement
atop the makeup stand. I giggled aloud and wondered if there might
be bright red sheets under the bedspread!
I was almost afraid to check the guest bathroom for fear he'd
purchased some lovely holiday print toilet paper! Whew, just a
couple of candles…the stores must have been out of the cheerful
tissue or I'm sure he'd have bought some just for kicks.
The desserts displayed in the kitchen reminded me of a Martha Stewart
segment on TV. Cookies, cakes, and pies, all made from scratch, and
several kinds of homemade candy beckoned from kitchen countertops.
He had been cooking up a storm! In addition, Christmas candles,
holiday hand towels and such were scattered here, there, and
everywhere.
My head spun as I gawked around the house. No sooner had I plopped
down on the couch to catch my breath than the dogs began begging to
go outside. I opened the backdoor and was nearly blinded by the
light—Dad had decorated the deck! It was dazzling with numerous
strings of flickering lights draped around the railings. "Oh my
gosh, Dad! You've never decorated the back of your house—have you
lost your mind, or what?"
I've never seen such a smug look on anyone's face in my entire
life. "Well, I figured the doggies would enjoy it when they went
outside." His eyes sparkled nearly as brightly as the deck lights.
The next day friends and neighbors began dropping by to visit.
Without fail, they each asked what I thought of Dad's preparations,
and they all reported he had been on a "mission" to surprise the
dickens out of me. It seemed nearly everyone in town knew what he'd
been up to. As for surprised? You bet I was!
Just as when I was a child, this now-older Santa had made Christmas
as special as possible for his now-older, little girl. Never in my
life had I felt Santa's love quite so deeply…
©2005 Kathleene S. Baker
-<>-
>I Like Being Old
__ /\ __ __ /\ __ __ /\ __ __ /\ __
\_`\/`_/ .\'/. \_`\/`_/ .\'/. \_`\/`_/ .\'/. \_`\/`_/
<_>()<_>-=>*<=-<_>()<_>-=>*<=-<_>()<_>-=>*<=-<_>()<_>
/_,/\,_\ '/.\' /_,/\,_\ '/.\' /_,/\,_\ '/.\' /_,/\,_\
\/ \/ \/ \/
The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I
was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my
reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it
was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her
know.
Old Age, I decided, is a gift.
I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have
always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime de spair over my
body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often
I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who
looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for
long.
I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving
family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've
become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become
my own friend.
I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making
my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but
looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be
messy, to be extravagant.
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before
they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer
until 4 AM and sleep until noon?
I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60&70's, and
if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.
I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging
body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to,
despite the pitying glances from the jet set.
They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is
just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important
things.
Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart
not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even
when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are
what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart
never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of
being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning
gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep
grooves on my face.
So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair
could turn silver.
As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about
what other people think I don't question myself anymore. I've even
earned the right to be wrong.
So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free.
I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but
while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could
have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert
every single day. (If I feel like it)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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>-->From SermondFodder:
\*/
__\\U//__
|\\ | | \\|
| \\| |\ \|()-()
|\ \| |\\ |/. .\
|\\ | | \\|\ Y /_
.--.| \\| |\ O__`&`__O
/____\\ \| |\\ |/ \
\~~~~/"[B]"""""()/^\()
jgs `--` [A][C]
Santa Visit
After spending most of a day shopping with her grandson, purchasing
gift after gift, the final stop on her checklist was to take the boy
to see Santa in the mall's center court area.
At the end of their visit, Santa gave the tyke a small gift. When he
said nothing, grandma prodded him, "What do you say to Santa?"
"Charge it," the boy replied, confidently.
===
-from Wit and Wisdom by way of Doc's Daily CChuckle. To subscribe:
http://family-safe-mail.com/lists/?p=subscribe&id=55
This post is brought your way by Sermon Fodder and Joke A Day
Ministries. To get a regular dose of Christian humor and a modern-day
parable drop a note to Sermon_Fodder-subscribe@yahoogroups.com.
Please leave this attached if you forward this
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======================================
A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance to your
steps as you walk the tightrope of life.
- William A. Ward
=====================================
The Star
* . .
. | .
* \|/
-->*<-- .
/|\
. ' | ' *
|
. | .
'
The day of the Christmas presentation finally arrived. My young
daughter, Jana, was so excited about her part that I thought she was
to be one of the main characters, though she had not told me what she
was to do. The parents were all there and one by one the children
took their places. I could see the shepherds fidgeting in the corner
of the stage meant to represent the fields for the sheep. Mary and
Joseph stood solemnly behind the manger.
In the back three young wise men waited impatiently. But still Jana
sat quietly and confidently. Then the teacher began: "A long time ago,
Mary and Joseph had a baby and they named Him Jesus," she said. "And
when Jesus was born, a bright star appeared over the stable."
At that cue, Jana got up from her chair, picked up a large tin-foil
star, walked behind Mary and Joseph and held the star up high for
everyone to see. When the teacher told about the shepherds coming to
see the baby, the three young shepherds came forward and Jana jiggled
the star up and down excitedly to show them where to come. When the
wise men responded to their cue, she went forward a little to meet
them and to lead the way, her face as alight as the real star might
have been.
The playlet ended. We had refreshments. On the way home Jana said,
with great satisfaction, "I had the main part!"
"You did?" I questioned, wondering why she thought that.
"Yes," she said, "'cause I showed everybody how to find Jesus!"
=======
>From Pulpit Supply by way of Doc's Daily Chuckle.
To subscribe: http://family-safe-mail.com/lists/?p=subscribe&id=55
====================================================================
>-->From Heartwarmers:
>THE LAST CHRISTMAS by Michael Segal
* . .
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/|\
. ' | ' *
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_ _ .:.
. ( | .-. ___ .'_`. WWW \w/ \V/
|/(_)\ .'.-.`. `(_)' (_) (_) (_)
|// \\ `/(_)\' // \\ _/ | _/ | _/ |
_ _ \/| |/ //)_(\\ \| |/ %%__/| $$__/| &&__/|
_-(_)- _-(_)- | | | /(o___))\ | | | | | | | |
`(___) `(___) | | | ` / \' | | | | | | | |
jgs // \\ // \\ | |_| /_____\ |_| |_| |_| |_|
Christmas is supposed to be a time of peace and joy on earth --
a time of giving and of "warmth."
Many celebrate the day, the birth of Jesus, at church, followed
by a sumptuous meal and then by opening gifts that are under the
Christmas tree. Still others celebrate the day by volunteering,
helping those who are less fortunate, at various food banks,
shelters, or hospitals.
I will never forget one specific Christmas. I work at Memorial
Hermann Hospital, primarily in the Neuro Trauma Intensive Care Unit.
Being Jewish, I also worked at other locations of the hospital
that day so that my Christian coworkers could spend time with their
families at home on Christmas.
Walking through the large hospital I saw many sad families in
the many waiting rooms that day. I could imagine them all screaming,
"What kind of Christmas is this? Spending it at the hospital?"
However, as I knocked on Room 623 on the oncology floor, I met
Mrs. Hunter and I soon learned that everything is relative.
"Hi, my name is Mike Segal from Case Management. Is there
anything I can do to help you? May I come in?" I asked those
questions to an 87 year old cancer victim who, according to the
chart, would soon be transferred to a Hospice so that she might live
out the remaining weeks of her life more peacefully.
Mary, her daughter, said, "Please come in."
As I entered the room, Mrs. Hunter uttered in a soft hoarse
voice, "I still need a straw." Mary quickly explained, "They
delivered this Ensure (a very high caloric and vitamin drink) for mom
but they didn't bring a straw. We asked the nurse for a straw a few
minutes ago, but this is Christmas and I don't know when the nurse
will bring it."
I excused myself and rushed down to the cafeteria where I
grabbed a handful of straws. Knocking on the door again, I was
greeted by Mary's huge smile as she saw what was in my hand.
"Thank you so much. It seems so small, but for mom the straw is
such an important thing," Mary said as she put the straw into the
Ensure that her mother quickly began drinking. Mary then wished me a
Merry Christmas.
"May y'all have a very peaceful Christmas too," I said as I
started to leave. "Before I go, is there anything else I can do?"
With those words, the 87 year old Mrs. Hunter quickly asked in a
soft voice, "Can we sing some Christmas carols?"
The question startled me. Besides, I wasn't sure if I knew the
words to any carols. However, I quickly replied, "Of course, I'd
love to."
Mrs. Hunter automatically started singing, "Jingle Bells, Jingle
BellsŠ" and I quickly joined in, followed by her daughter Mary. Mrs.
Hunter then started, with Mary and myself, singing two other
Christmas songs.
Some Jewish people might be asking, "How can I, as a Jew, sing
Christian songs?"
However, for me the answer was crystal clear. Judaism believes
in the sanctity of life. If I could do anything to help Mrs. Hunter
enjoy her last Christmas, I was going to do it. The preservation of
life takes precedence over everything else in Judaism and
"preservation of life" may be interpreted in many different ways.
That day I interpreted it as bringing a smile to the face of a dying
woman.
As we concluded our songs, Mary, with tears in her eyes, said,
"Thank you so much. God bless you and Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you and your family as well," I replied,
feeling the true spirit of the holiday's season.
-- Michael Jordan Segal
____________________________________________
Michael defied all odds after being shot in the head, and is a
husband, father, social worker, author, and inspirational speaker.
His miraculous comeback story was first published in Chicken Soup for
the Christian Family Soul. You are welcomed to visit his website at:
http://www.inspirationbymike.com
____________________________________________
OUR TIME
by Frank P. Cotter
We created a turkey with paper and paste;
A pack of Crayolas gave our gobbler a face.
Dressed like an Indian didn't offend,
Johnny the pilgrim could still be your friend.
Bows, arrows and pop guns were only for play.
Overnight at your Grandma's was a neat place to stay.
A house full of relatives felt so cozy and warm.
An old pair of footed pajamas helped weather the storm.
A banging steam furnace and another cold season,
Ready-Whip on your Bosco for kids that were freezing.
Tin cans and old newspapers could be traded for cash.
An itchy, wet, woolen, sweater could sure cause a rash.
Ashes on sidewalks kept children from slipping,
Marshmallows and chocolate were just meant for dipping.
Flexible Flyers and rubber galoshes,
The ones on the bottom were usually the squashed kids.
Snow on the ground seemed to stay there all season.
Your sister and brother got used to your teasing.
You played or you didn't was a coach's decision.
You were lucky to have a black and white television.
At Christmas one special gift and several small others,
Were more than enough for sister and brother.
We didn't have a lot, but we felt it was plenty,
We were always reminded of those who didn't have any.
Whenever I remember those days it gives me a smile,
A quarter in our pockets and we'd walk a mile.
-- Frank P. Cotter
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HAVE A SAFE AND BLESSED CHRISTMAS!
---> Visit my CyberHome - ALWAYS OPEN HOUSE :)Shangy!
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