Thursday, December 24, 2009
Poor Christmas
Ah-h-h... well, this is going to be a poor Christmas for me and my family. I'm having money trouble, but in this economy, who isn't? A good thing is that my kids are all grown up now so a lot of the pressure I used to feel to buy them stuff for the holidays is minimized. This year everyone gets a card, a hug, kind words, and a warm, home-cooked meal. This all sounds so good, it's almost hard to believe that in the old days I'd go nuts with all the shopping, card mailing, decorating and stuff... not having any money can be kinda liberating - ya know? I still harbor pangs of guilt at not being to at least buy them something, but I assuage that guilt with the knowledge that it honestly can't be helped, and that it's not their or my birthday anyway. Putting the Christ back in Christmas should be the priority, and it's a shame that it took this long to better see that. It's Jesus' birthday afterall, and it's He who should be getting all the gifts... gifts of praise, love, faith, peace, harmony... and charity. Once again, please don't forget those less fortunate than you. Merry CHRISTmas and God bless.
Labels:
Arnold Wolf,
Chickenhawk,
Christmas,
crime,
fiction,
holiday,
Jesus,
New York City,
novel
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