Any one in the Christmas Spirit Post Here

[rosylady]

Post anything Christmasy.



We Wish You a Merry Christmas

We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin;
Good tidings for Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Oh, bring us a figgy pudding;
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding;
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer.
We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some, so bring some right here.

We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

 

[rosylady]

'Twas The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
Mama in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, threw open the sash.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
That I knew right away, that it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer, now Vixen,
On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, and Blitzen".

To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
Dash away, dash away, dash away all.
So up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
All the clattering noise of these galloping hoofs.
All bundled in fur from his head to his foot,
His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

I drew in my head and was turning around,
When down the chimney he came with a bound.
A bag full of toys he had slung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes, how they twinkled,
His dimples, how merry.
His cheeks were like roses
His nose like a cherry,
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
The beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
The smoke went around his head like a wreath.
Oh, he was so jolly and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him,
In spite of myself.

He had a round face, and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
I knew all the while I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all good night."

 

[rosylady]

Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer

Rudolph the red nose reindeer,
had a very shiny nose,
and if you ever saw it,
you would even say it glowed.

All of the other reindeer,
used to laugh and call him names.
They never let poor Rudolph,
join in any reindeer games.

Then one foggy Christmas Eve,
Santa came to say:
"Rudolph with your nose so bright,
won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

Then all the reindeer loved him,
as they shouted out with glee:
"Rudoph the Red Nose Reindeer,
you'll go down in history!"

 

[cookiejar]

Francis P. Church's editorial to Virginia O'Hanlon in 1897......



Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,

He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!!

 

[rosylady]

 

[rosylady]

The Elves and the Shoemaker

Once upon a time a shoemaker and his wife lived above a small shop. Although the shoemaker worked hard, they were very poor.

One day, the shoemaker found that he only enough money for leather to make one pair of shoes. He cut the leather out and left the pieces on his workbench before going to bed. The next morning he was astonished to find that the leather had been made into a beautiful pair of shoes.

Still muttering in amazement, he put the shoes in the shop window. That morning a very rich lady saw the shoes in the window and at once rushed inside.

"I simply must have those shoes!" she cried.

That afternoon, the shoemaker was able to buy leather for two pairs of shoes. As before he cut out the leather and left it on his bench overnight. The next morning, two pretty pairs of shoes were waiting. So it went on, until the shoemaker and his wife were quite wealthy.

One night, just before Christmas, the shoemaker's wife said. "We still don't know who is helping us in this way. Why don't we stay up tonight and hide in your workroom? Then we will see what happens."

That night the shoemaker and his wife saw two little elves run in, do all the work, then disappear.

The next morning the shoemaker said to his wife, "did you notice how ragged the elves' clothes were? Let's make them some little clothes and shoes to wear."

The shoemaker's wife thought this was an excellent idea. On Christmas Eve, the presents were finished. The shoemaker and his wife hid in the workroom again to see what would happen.

At midnight the elves ran in as before. They were so overjoyed with their little suits and their tiny shoes that they danced around and sang,

"We look so fine, as you can see,

We need no longer cobblers be!"

And with that they skipped out of the door. The elves never did return, but the shoemaker and his wife lived happily ever after.

 

[rosylady]

The Christmas Mouse

A Christmas mouse

Came to our house,

Looking for crumbs

That clumsy thumbs

Had dropped on the floor.

Under the door

He quietly crept

And bits not swept

He nibbled and sniffed,

'A Christmas gift,'

Old Mousie thought

And went and brought

His relations and friends

To share the ends

Of our Christmas feast



By

Daphne Lister

 

[biggbear8]

THE GIFT OF THE MAGI
by O. Henry
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

 

[biggbear8]

vMerry Christmas, My Friend


"I will never forget you," the old man said. A tear rolled down his leathery cheek. "I'm getting old. I can't take care of you anymore."

With his head tilted to one side, Monsieur DuPree watched his master. "Woof woof! Woof woof!" He wagged his tail back and forth, wondering, What's he up to now?

"I can't take care of myself anymore, let alone take care of you." The old man cleared his throat. He pulled a hankie from his pocket and blew his nose with a mighty blast.

"Soon, I'll move to an old age home and, I'm sorry to say, you can't come along. They don't allow dogs there, you know."

Bent over from age, the old man limped over to Monsieur DuPree and stroked his head.

"Don't worry, my friend. We'll find a home. We'll find a nice new home for you." And, as an afterthought he added, "Why, with your good looks, we'll have no trouble at all. Anyone would be proud to own such a fine dog."

Monsieur DuPree wagged his tail really hard and strutted up and down the kitchen floor. "Woof, woof, woof, woof." For a moment, the familiar musky scent of the old man mingling with the odor of greasy food gave the dog the feeling of well being. But then, a sense of dread took hold again. His tail hung between his legs and he stood very still.

"Come here." With great difficulty, the old man knelt down on the floor and lovingly pulled Monsieur Dupree close to him. He tied a ribbon around his neck with a huge red bow, and then he attached a note to it. Monsieur DuPree wondered what it said.

"It says," the old man read aloud, "Merry Christmas! My name is Monsieur DuPree. For breakfast, I like bacon and eggs -- even corn flakes will do. For dinner, I prefer mashed potatoes and some meat. That's all. I eat just two meals a day. In return, I will be your most loyal friend."

"Woof woof! Woof woof!" Monsieur DuPree was confused and his eyes begged, What's going on?

The old man blew his nose into his hankie once more. Then, hanging onto a chair, he pulled himself up from the floor. Buttoning his overcoat, he reached for the dog's leash and softly said, "Come here my friend." He opened the door against a gust of cold air and stepped outside, pulling the dog behind. Dusk was beginning to fall. Monsieur DuPree pulled back. He didn't want to go.

"Don't make this any harder for me. I promise you, you'll be much better off with someone else." The street was deserted. It began to snow. Leaning into the wintry air, the old man and his dog pushed on. The pavement, trees, and houses were soon covered with a blanket of snow.

After a very long time, they came upon an old Victorian house surrounded by tall trees, which were swaying and humming in the wind. The old man stopped. Monsieur DuPree stopped, too. Shivering in the cold, they appraised the house. Glimmering lights adorned every window, and the muffled sound of a Christmas song was carried on the wind.

"This will be a nice home for you," the old man said, choking on his words. He bent down and unleashed his dog, then opened the gate slowly, so that it wouldn't creak. "Go on now. Go up the steps and scratch on the door."

Monsieur DuPree looked from the house to his master and back again to the house. He did not understand. "Woof woof! Woof woof!"

"Go on." The old man gave the dog a shove. "I have no use for you anymore," he said in a gruff voice. "Get going now!"

Monsieur DuPree was hurt. He thought his master didn't love him anymore. He didn't understand that, indeed, the old man loved him very much, yet he could no longer care for him. Slowly he straggled toward the house and up the steps. He scratched with one paw at the front door. "Woof woof! Woof woof!"

Looking back, he saw his master step behind a tree just as someone from inside turned the front doorknob. A little boy appeared, framed in the door by the light coming from behind. When he saw Monsieur DuPree, he threw both arms into the air and shouted with delight, "Oh boy! Oh boy! Mom and Dad, come and see what Santa brought!"

Through teary eyes, the old man watched from behind the tree. He saw the mother read the note, and tenderly pull the dog inside.

Smiling, the old man wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his cold, damp coat as he disappeared into the night whispering, "Merry Christmas, my friend."

Christa Holder Ocker
"Chicken Soup for the Kid's Soul"
Editor: Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Patty Hansen and Irene Dunlap

 

[Cipher]

My message is simple and it's for all that stop here, And for all those who don't.

May blessings, hope, joy, and peace, be unto all of you here at Literotica this Holiday Season!!!



MerryChristmas!!!

 

[Golden Eyes]

JUST STOPPING IN AND WISHING ALL OF YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A VERY BLESSED NEW YEAR !!!

MWAHHHHHH, BLOWING KISSES TO ALL OF YOU

 

[English Lady]

Luke 2:1-8

The Birth of Jesus

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register.
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

 

[SweetInnocence]

Really enjoying this thread!!

Merry Christmas EVERYONE !!

 

[biggbear8]

Really enjoying this thread!!

Merry Christmas EVERYONE !!

MERRY CHRISTMAS SWEETINNOCENCE

 

[biggbear8]

Santa

As a little girl climbed onto Santa's lap, Santa asked the usual,
"And what would you like for Christmas ?"
The child stared at him open mouthed and horrified for a minute,
then gasped: "Didn't you get my letter?"
by castlemountaingreetings

 

[biggbear8]

vOUR PLATE OF COOKIES

We started off right
With lots of ideas
Of all the gifts
that everyone gives.
"Well, we'll do it too!"
Enthusiastically we said,
Planning cookies, cakes,
And fresh warm bread.
So, we made a list
Of those to receive
Our plate of goodies
Under their tree.
There's the neighbors, home teachers,
In-laws, baby tenders,
Neighborhood children,
Pitch hitters, sugar lenders,
The teachers, ward members
The list never ends.
In desperation we screamed,
"We have too many friends!"
How could they all be so nice to me?
Creating Christmas stress!
That just couldn't be!
Then the thought came right back,
Hit us right in the face.
We smiled as everything fell into place
Too many friends?
We guess things could be worse.
If we must be plagued
I'll let this be my curse.
Some say it with sweets,
Some sing it like birds,
Some make it with crafts,
We'll tell it with words.
You're wonderful, we love you!
We're blessed as can be,
Friends are the best gifts,
under any Christmas tree.

by cmg

 

[biggbear8]

Santa

Just before Christmas, an honest politician, a generous lawyer
and Santa Claus were riding in the elevator of a very posh hotel.
Just before the doors opened they all noticed a $20 bill lying on the floor.
Which one picked it up?
Santa of course, because the other two don't exist!


by cmg

 

[biggbear8]

Reindeer

Did you know that according to the song, "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer",
Santa has eleven reindeer? Sure, in the introduction it goes
"There's Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet
and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen..."
That makes eight reindeer.
Then there's Rudolph, of course, so that makes nine.
Then there's Olive. You know,
"Olive the other reindeer used to laugh..."
That makes ten.
The eleventh is Howe. You know,
"Then Howe the reindeer loved him..."
Eleven reindeer.
The proof is in the song!

by cmg

 

[SweetInnocence]

MERRY CHRISTMAS SWEETINNOCENCE

And same to you biggbear8

 

[rosylady]

C is for Christ born on this day
H is for Happy Holiday's which we say in passing
R is for Rudolph, who guides Santa's Sleigh
I is for Icicles, which hang from the houses
S is for Santa, who brings us lots of presents
T is for Tree, which we decorate
M is for Merry Christmas, which I wish all of you
A is for Angels, who watch over us
S is for Snow, which I want lots of Christmas morning

 

[STUDDOG]

Hi Rosy.........

WHERE THERE IS DESPAIR ....I WISH HOPE

WHERE THERE IS LONELY......I WISH LOVE

WHERE THERE IS PAIN........I WISH DIGNITY

WHERE THERE IS NEED........I WISH FRIENDSHIP

Friends


Home
"May your home always be too small to hold all of your friends."

Friendship is a Treasure
"True friendship is a treasure beyond compare."

Only One Wing
"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by
embracing one another."
For My Friend
"The most I can do for my friend is simply be his friend."
Friendly Love
"A friend is one who knows us, but loves us anyway."

Friend Accepting You
"A friend is one who knows what you are, understands where you have been,
accepts what you have become, and still..."

Friend is a Gift
"A friend is a gift you give yourself."

Friend Touches Your Heart
"A true friend reaches for your hand and touches your heart."
One Soul, Two Bodies
"A true friend is one soul in two bodies."

Friendly Encouragement
"It is never too late to be what you might have been."
- George Eliot


A friend is someone who brightens your day with a smile,
a warm hello, or gentle words from the heart.
A friend is a precious gift to be cherished
and nurtured. A friend is a treasure beyond worth.
I am so grateful to call you my friend!!!
Anonymous


My Friend...Tracey
You have given me courage,
That was not there...
You have given laughter,
That I can share...
You have given me feelings,
That are deep and true...
For that my friend
I will always love you...


A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back
to you when you have forgotten the words.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIENDS"

STUDDOG

 

[cookiejar]

This made me cry........it"s beautiful.

'Twas the night before Christmas,
he lived all alone
in a one bedroom house
made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney
with presents to give
And to see whom
in this home did live.

I looked all about.
A strange sight I did see
No Tinsel. No presents.
Not even a tree.

No stocking by the mantle
just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures
of far distant lands.

With medals and badges,
awards of all kinds,
A sober thought
camethrough my mind.

For this house was different.
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping,
silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor
in this one bedroom home.

The face was gentle,
the room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured
a United States Soldier.

Was this the hero
of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
the floor for his bed?

I realized the families
that I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers
who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world,
the children would play,
And grown-ups would celebrate
a bright Christmas Day.

They all enjoyed freedom
each month of the year
Because of the soldiers,
like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder
how many lay alone,
On a Christmas Eve
in a land so far from home.

The very thought brought
a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
and started to cry.

The soldier awakened
and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry.
This life is my choice.

I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more.
My life is my God,
my country, my regiment.

The soldier rolled over
and drifted off to sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,
so silent and still
And we both shivered
from the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave
on that cold dark night.
This Guardian of Honor
so willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over,
with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas day, all is secure.

One look at my watch
and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend..
and to all a good night.

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan. The following is his request. I think it is reasonable... PLEASE. Would you do me the kind of favor by sending this to as many people as you can. Christmas is almost here ...remember the men who fight for your freedom.

 

[biggbear8]

wishing everyone a merry christmas and a happy new year

 

[biggbear8]

Dear Santa
Dear Santa, I'm fine and how have you been?
I feel it's about time to write you again.
Our town has become a bright Christmas scene,
With everything sparkling of crisp red and green.

Now that I'm older I've found out some stuff.
I'd like some new things but I may have enough.
They tell me that some kids don't have many toys
And there's not enough food for some girls and boys.

I remember the wonderful things you've brought here,
I hope you'll do that for some others this year.
Just look up the past, as you make out your list,
Then please put on top the ones that were missed.

Some of us that you have blessed in the past
Will rejoice, this year, with your gift that will last:
For it's through your example you taught us our part,
It's the spirit of giving you've placed in each heart.

I've talked to my friends and we've pledged that this year
We will all do our best to help spread your cheer
We'll make someone smile who's been sad Christmas Day.
Dear Santa, I love you. Your friend, Anna Mae.
—Grandpa Tucker
Copyright ©1999 by Bob Tucker

 

[biggbear8]

Claus
There was an old fellow named Claus
With a case of the mid-winter blahs.
Taught his reindeer to fly
So they took to the sky.
The taps on your roof may be paws.