A somewhat cynical december entry

[Sir_G]

Xmas has never been one of my favourite times of the year. It seems to be the time when people feel obligated to get together and blow sunshine up each others arses and say how much they missed each other while underneath they can't stand each other. Then there's the obligitory family arguments after too much food and alchohol.

The message has been lost as thousands die around the world - hunger, war, hate, lonliness and suicide. And the retailers rub their hands together and all they see is profits. Priests and pastors, ministers of the clergy continue to preach purity, and chastity, all the while taking sexual advantage of those who are vulnerable. They buy drugs from Male prostitutes, fleece there congrations with endless guilt trip about how God will not bless them unless they put a fifty in the collection plate.

Cynical, yes definitely. Why because I was one of those poor unfortunates who was taken advantage of by someone I trusted implicitly. Groped and molested in the night by a minister of christ.

But to my friends here I truly do wish you a merry xmas and hope with all my heart the season brings you peace and good will no matter what your religion or denomination.

[storm]

I love it!

[TomOfSweden]

or you could see it for what it is. A reason to meet the people we love. It doesn't happen half as much as I'd like. We stopped buying crap for each other that nobody really wanted many years ago. But I don't celebrate with my family. I know other people closer to me.

[Balrog]

Hahaha...... nice hat!

Good luck
Fox

[SheepishJaina]

G,

Whilst most won't agree with ye, I'm definitely leaning this way this Christmas. *hug* Thanks for the entry

[cala]

Bloody marvellous!!

The forced happiness of New Year is even worse - so this year I'm off to a moslem country on 31st. Dec.

[rora]

i am very sorry Sir_G. i came very close to having the same thing happen to me. Try to Look at Christmas like this.




It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.
It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas-oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it
overspending ...the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma-the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.
Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.
Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended; and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.
Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.
Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, I wish just one of them could have won, he said. They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them. Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came.
That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.
For each Christmas, I followed the tradition---one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.
The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents.
As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. The story doesn't end there.
You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up.
But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.

Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope.

Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.
May we all remember Christ, who is the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and always.

Merry Christmas to Eeveryone.

[TomOfSweden]

That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.

This touched me deep down. There are so many people who donate to charity, when it's got nothing to do with helping but to allieviate a guilt trip. I know people working with organised charity. It's just people lining their own pockets which everybody would realise if they spent a minute thinking about it. But they chose to ignore it to feel a little bit better. Even Red Cross sucks if you study the numbers, and that's one of the better ones.

Anyway. It was a very inspiring post and I'll do my best to find something here in Sweden to match it. This was the most Christmasy thing I've read in years. Thanks for the inspiration.

[rora]

i totally agree with You. i would much rather do something like that than give to a charity, especially the Red Cross...and that from a former chairman of the Red Cross Blood drive in my town. Another one i will never donate to is the Salvation Army. Yes, please...find something like that to do ...i am glad it touched You. Merry Christmas. *smiling*

[cariad]

rora, your account brought tears to my eyes, and next year I think I will copy your idea. Thank you for the inspiration.

cariad