ALL I WANT FROM SANTY IS MY SANITY

Written by Rev. James L. Snyder


ALL I WANT FROM ‘SANTY' IS MY SANITY Rev. James L. Snyder

Christmas isrepparttar one time ofrepparttar 118113 year when it is okay to be traditional. That may berepparttar 118114 reason why so many people look forward torepparttar 118115 Christmas holidays.

The rest ofrepparttar 118116 year most people are underrepparttar 118117 pressure to be "non-traditional," whatever that may mean. Today it is not politically correct to be traditional and if you are, you runrepparttar 118118 risk of being out of favor withrepparttar 118119 rest of society.

Christmas, however, is a different time altogether for everyone. July may be a good month to be non-traditional, but not December. There is a time to be non-traditional and then there is a time to regain your senses and enjoyrepparttar 118120 amenities of good, old-fashioned, traditionalism.

No matter how far awayrepparttar 118121 young folks wander, Christmas draws them back to traditionalism like a magnet. (It might have something to do with pumpkin pie.)

One ofrepparttar 118122 wonderful things about this time ofrepparttar 118123 year isrepparttar 118124 many family traditions enjoyed and endured by families all aroundrepparttar 118125 world. Inrepparttar 118126 parsonage, we have honored some great traditions throughrepparttar 118127 years.

Each year, whilerepparttar 118128 gracious Mistress ofrepparttar 118129 Parsonage and our little brood decoratedrepparttar 118130 Christmas tree, I busied myself inrepparttar 118131 kitchen making my special eggnog.

What was so special, was that each year it was different. I could not remember from one year torepparttar 118132 other just how I made it. Usually it turned out all right, except forrepparttar 118133 year I forgot to put inrepparttar 118134 eggs.

Another tradition inrepparttar 118135 parsonage wasrepparttar 118136 Christmas wish list for good ole Santy.

One ofrepparttar 118137 practical reasons for this was to prevent my children from getting me a fluorescent orange necktie with a pink hoola-dancer on it. As a minister, there are precious few places to wear such neckwear.

The children ofrepparttar 118138 parsonage are grown, with children of their own now, andrepparttar 118139 "wish list" has gonerepparttar 118140 way of all good things.

It isrepparttar 118141 one tradition I miss,and I wish it could be revived. If I could reviverepparttar 118142 "wish list," there is one thing that would lead my list. All I want from dear ole Santy this year is my sanity.

The fact that I have lost my sanity, or at least, misplaced it, is quite curious. The curious thing about it is that I do not remember just when it was that I lost it.

Have you ever looked for something only to discover that you could not find it and could not remember just when you saw it last? If I could only remember when I last used my sanity, it might serve as a clue as to where it is right now.

It is not that it has been a major lost in my life, but there have been a few times when I could have used it.

For one, I could have used my sanity when I got married. Looking back, it seems that atrepparttar 118143 time, my sanity was somewhere, but not where I could use it readily.

Being Sensitive and Kind

Written by Birmingham UK Com


I am very caring and sensitive. I think this is in part down to my tough upbringing. I worked on a cabbage farm since I was eight years old. My father was a dour and God fearing Evangalist who married a one armed Yugoslavian peasant from Skopje. She never spoke a word of English and still doesn't.

My father moved on inrepparttar late 1980's having eloped with a Tibetan Monk. I never heard from them again but I escaped fromrepparttar 118112 cabbages. I was an only child until my mother re married again and I now have 4 step sisters and 3 step brothers.

I washed cars inrepparttar 118113 biting winds ofrepparttar 118114 North East coast to earn money forrepparttar 118115 family and despite looking after my mother and her young siblings I was thrown out of house and home atrepparttar 118116 age of 18.

I moved to London and was going to sleep rough. Since then I have encountered nothing but kindness. I remember my first day inrepparttar 118117 capital. It was just after Halloween in 1987 and I found this old pumpkin which I wanted to slice up into pieces so I borrowed a meat cleaver I found atrepparttar 118118 back ofrepparttar 118119 Chinese Restaurant and as I was returning torepparttar 118120 rubbish skip forrepparttar 118121 pumpkin I bumped into a man who looked at me without saying a word and handed merepparttar 118122 total contents of his wallet. Can you believe it. I am sure that meat cleaver was lucky.

With this kind donation I checked into a hotel. What luxury. I had never been in a hotel before. They had this thing called a bidet with fresh water pouring out of it that you could drink from.

Onrepparttar 118123 second night I was inrepparttar 118124 lobby trying on some sun glasses that I never intended to buy and doing my best James Bond impression and watching my reflection offrepparttar 118125 shop window. I wondered if I could become an actor. Out ofrepparttar 118126 blue a total stranger walks up to me and in perfect Slav he hands me a suitcase, shakes my hand and thanks me for all my work forrepparttar 118127 motherland. I thanked him also and praisedrepparttar 118128 motherland profusely. I felt so good and warm that someone appreciated me and I never hadrepparttar 118129 heart to tell this person that I didn't know what he meant. So uncanny that he should speak in a language I understood so well. It was almost as if he had singled me out from amongstrepparttar 118130 crowd.

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