Tis the Season

First of all.
Bravo to Alabama. Bravo to the black contingent of Alabama voters who came out in force to save the state from global embarrassment.

Once again.
Shame again on Donald Trump for supporting the accused predator Mr. Moore. It is just another rung on the ladder of impeachment. In my communications with people who are living in other parts of our glorious world. We (The USA) are the subject of ridicule, surprise, and immoral innuendo.

Unbelievable.
The elites of a Republican Congress have hidden and forced a tax bill on the American public that is unfair, unconscionable, and under-handed to the average tax-payer.

What’s good.
It’s the Christmas season where goodwill should prevail. Let us all pray for and envision a commonality of compassion, a congeniality of compromise, and a Congress of courage to finally do the right thing.

Christman Time

Christmas Time
© 1995 Rolland G. Smith

Some poetic thoughts on Christmas.

Christmas time surprises as it jumps out from the cold
to warm the late December days with frankincense and gold
It heralds in with music, in the silent of the night,
and when it wakes the child within my memories are bright.

It’s wrapping hearts in holly green and Rudolph red with bow
and standing ‘neath a berried sprig of kissing mistletoe.
Dancing dreams of sugarplums and minted candy cane
bring visions of a Christmas tree and a circling tooting train.
.
I harken as the angles sing with distant family near
and I love to hear a child say the names of eight reindeer.
Patina thoughts of Christmas past and shinny ones of new
remind me of the Magi three and a child named Jesu.

There’s jingle bells and icicles and packages to tie
with ribbons tight and wrappings bright of sleighs up in the sky,
There’s hugs galore and candy more and kids with favorite toys
and shirts and socks and building blocks for little girls and boys.

There’s cards and calls and carols and candles fill the room
and tins of sugar cookies shine by red poinsettia bloom.
Christmas time indeed surprises in a special, wondrous way
in winter and forever it’s my favorite holiday.

Christmas Stories and Legends

Some thoughts today and for the next several days on the customs and stories of Christmas.

In England, it is still common to hear someone say that the cock crows for Christmas. Legend has it that the roosters crowing would frighten away the bad spirits from the holy season.

Other superstitions are wonderful in their imagery. One is that bees can sing at Christmas and sheep walk in procession to commemorate the visit of the angel to the shepherds.

In Canada, there is the story of an Indian creeping through the woods on Christmas, watching to see the deer kneel and look up to the Great Spirit.

At one time in the German Alps, it was believed that cattle had the gift of language on Christmas, but it was a sin to eavesdrop.

In Poland, the story is told that on Christmas the heavens are opened, and the scene of Jacob’s ladder is re-enacted, but only the Saints could see it.

In Scandinavian countries. Goodwill is the order of the season. Old quarrels are balanced by forgiveness and feuds are forgotten. In each household, members place their shoes in a row to symbolize that during the year the family will live together in peace and harmony.

Let us visualize all the shoes of the world in a row this year.

Pearl Harbor

There was a time, over dinner many years ago, that a friend of mine, a retired naval officer, now a successful businessman, wanted to talk to one of my sons about attending Annapolis.

My friend was a good man, a survivor of Pearl Harbor, but he had a powerful hatred for the Japanese. He hated them so much that he took every opportunity in business, in public, and in private to say so.

During our conversation I told him, I hoped he would understand, but he could not talk to my son unless he let go of his hatred, for I didn’t want a then seventeen years old influenced by such a long-festering anger.

When you hate you create a bond almost as powerful as love, and it won’t release you from your pain until you consciously let it go. Wisdom teachings suggest that hatred will eventually destroy the hater.

My friend thought about our discussion for several weeks. One day he called to tell me he was going to visit Pearl Harbor…on his way to Japan.

He asked when he got back could talk to my son. I said “yes.”