Just Before Christmas
“They ast me to write to old Sandy, an’ say he’ll bring me nice things if I’m good.”
“They ast me to write to old Sandy, an’ say he’ll bring me nice things if I’m good.”
Instead of dragging out all the tired Christmas clichés and 2020 jokes, I’ll just share a little story about a lesson learned and the spirit of Christmas.
It’s hard to imagine a poet having more professional success and personal tragedy than Longfellow, and yet he wrote this steadfast call to hope during one of the nation’s most miserable of Christmases.
It is difficult to imagine any modern popular artists willing to balance so much. Indeed, our own bifurcated culture would likely not allow it
Because part of becoming a modern adult is learning to hate everything that might have made you happy as a kid.
This meal is more than just ingredients, it’s years of handing down recipes orally with each generation teaching the next one to come.
Christmas is a time for weird encounters and uncanny happenings.
While the country appears more divided than ever, I wonder if there are families like ours-those who felt that divide at one point. But now sit in silence.
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” Especially the boxkickers bringing the presents, overworked and underappreciated modern
Santas they are.
…did that arrive from Amazon? Did mom’s Alan Jackson DVD show up? Did her favorite soap show up? OH MY GOSH HOW IS CHRISTMAS NEXT WEEK.
Thus, the Court reasons that the public celebration of the Christmas Holiday is a historical observance, not a religious one.
Before you break out the Bing Crosby or dust off the Michael Bublé; hell, before you even play one bar of José Feliciano or Mariah Carey…