Pre Op Exams... the Surgery I do not want.

I have pre op tests and preparations today for the pending surgery on January 8.  As I walked with my beloved shepherds this morning my fear has grown and my resolve to allow the surgery has weakened. I honestly do not want to go through with it.

The past surgeries... breast, melanoma, throat, thyroid, liver biopsies, I went through for the sake of my family.... but they are now gone and each surgery left me more of a shell of my former self.  I can't stand the sight of me in a mirror...   Maybe that is the Creators joke one me... "don't like looking at yourself, well give Me time, and you won't have to. "

But, that's the point isn't it?  Time?  If I let them operate in January I may be out of time; IMMEDIATELY.  If I don't the vision will worsen and I will eventually lose it even with glasses that will eventually end up looking like coke bottles... but I will have TIME.  Time to maybe complete the next 18 months of work and retire and NEVER have to take a hand out from the government.  I can't stand or live with the though of being on SSI... or welfare. Time to find a one story single family home to live in so I can take care of myself and not be dependent.  Time to sell the Jeep and say good bye and thank you for the joy of driving. Time to make sure my dogs have a place that is secure where they can run when I can't take them for long walks any more.  Time

Truth is, and God knows it to be true, is that I would much rather be dead.

For the first time I am honestly asking God... why?

The silence is deafening.

Lenses from her glasses
soon-

will be ground into sand.

Then they can sift through a
perpetual glass prison
in an hourglass heirloom.

Upon death,
the living grind glass
and add vision to the timepiece
so the rest of the chain
can see glints of stray light
and insight from
ancient eyes
that flash into
young pupils.

Each contribution
lengthens time
as each old ghost
lends a hand
to the living

The Mountain I Must Climb... Acceptance... A Word I Must Now Learn..

Tri-Care approval certification for my upcoming surgeries arrived in the mail yesterday; hammering home the reality of what is to come on January 8, 2015.  It was also a rainy day and I was hit VERY hard with how difficult seeing has truly become.  I have only been driving for 7 years… but even with this one eye, driving in the rain has been a challenge as the water on the road totally distorts things and in fact I “lose” the road.  Boy did I lose the road yesterday!  White knuckling it all the way to work, I thanked God for getting me there safely and thanked Him again for NOT letting it rain as I drovehome.  I was also VERY grateful that I come into work as early as I do because it reduced the amount of traffic I encounter (with lights on)  I have learned that the sunlight and the lights of numerous cars coming at me or behind me make seeing even more difficult and downright painful.

I still do NOT want to go through with this surgery but the reality is that if I don’t let them try; I will definitely be completely blind within about a year.  So I have to take the risk, now, of letting them operate and try to save the vision in the only eye I have been able to see out of since I was 12.  I keep holding on to as much of the positive as I can while preparing for the worst.  What will it be like if, after the bandage is removed, my vision is gone for good? Then too, will the tumor turn out to be cancerous?  Odd are high in that favor.  If it is cancerous will they get it all or has it already moved on to other places?  If so, where?

Then, if this does not turn out well, what will the future hold? I think it will be the change that will be the hardest part, not the vision loss itself. People born blind don't need to struggle with this aspect; people like me who lose their sight later in life do.  Funny thing is that, since the age of 12, it has been one of my greatest fears. Add to this that I just learned to drive 7 years ago (after being told for years by first my father and then my late husband that people with vision in only one eye could never drive).  I now know the freedom and independence of driving… I don’t want to lose it.  I greatly value my independence.  Dear God, I don’t want to NEED anyone and I don’t want to burden anyone… Not ever!   (Acceptance Bonnie, acceptance)

The most destructive part of losing one's sight is the feeling of incompetence.  I've broken or cracked more than half of my set of drinking glasses by dropping or knocking them over. I vacuum up electrical cords because I forgot to check for stray cords. I've walked into walls by accident. I've stepped on my dogs too many times to mention, and I'm afraid that one of them holds a grudge. I listen to TV more than watch it and I can’t work the long hours I once did on the computer, even with larger font settings as a gray cloud now descends once the eye tires and I can’t see through it.  The headaches become debilitating.

I'm the kind of person who hates feeling inept. I like doing things well; to a certain degree, I continue to do most things well. At times, I feel like a failure at adapting. When I misplace something for the umpteenth time, I find myself berating myself for not being better at going blind. I practice going up and down the stairs without the lights on and with my eyes shut.  I practice pouring myself coffee and doing mundane household tasks blindfolded. I wonder if I will be able to walk my sweet shepherds. Will I rise to task of being blind if God so ordains it?   How will I make a living?  I won’t accept SSI or handouts.  Am I young enough to learn a new way?

One of the more discerning aspects of vision loss is how my conception of myself has changed. Even though I've known that this was a possibility since childhood, I've never thought of myself as ever blind. I'm starting to think of myself that way now. I've stopped squinting, thinking that I would see well, only if I tried harder. The path to acceptance is a slow one, full of cracked glasses and disgruntled cats, but I'm getting there. Acceptance may have to be my new key word.

I can’t tell you how much I would/will miss the wonders of God’s world.  As I put my Christmas tree and other decorations up this year, I did so slowly and lovingly; understanding that this could be the last time I actually SEE all of them.  I pause, even while at work, to admire the heavens, the horizon, the distant mountains and to thank God that I still have eyes (eye) to see.  I walk more slowly around the neighborhood and in my beloved Superstition… trying to memorize every bit of beauty I can see; just in case.

The hardest part has been accepting that I may never see the face of my beautiful daughter Mary again, or my sixteen-year-old granddaughter, Jessica. The last time I saw her was when she was only 12 and I find it almost unbearable not knowing what she looks like now.  I can’t accept that I may never again look into the eyes of my oldest son, Doug, who has his father’s eyes… and see a part of his dad looking back at me as well.  I can’t accept the fact that I may never again see the smile of my youngest son James and also see a part of his dad smiling back at me as well.  Acceptance…  I have to learn the meaning of that word.

 During this Holy Season, I am relying heavily on our heavenly Father and His beloved Son to guide me along this path.  It is, after all, totally in His hands

Merry Christmas from Ranger and Ruger

A Christmas Poem From My Dogs Eyeing hydrants, digging holes, Drinking from the toilet bowls . . . Playing games of "tug-o'-war," Putting scratch marks on your door . . . Rolling over, playing dead, Getting dog hair on your bed . . . Scaring folks who bring the mail, Chasing balls, as well as our tails . . . Barking, begging, heeling, howling, And also, on occasion, growling . . . Romping through a field of grass, Sneezing, snoozing, passing gas . . . Sniffing everything we see, Peeing on the Christmas tree? . . . Woofing, wagging, chomping, chewing . . . These are things we sure love doing! (But, mommy we'll try not to do that tree thing . . .) Happy Holidays!

My Response to my Fur babies

I look into your eyes and can see,
The trust that is built between you and me.
You never judge me when I am blue,
You are  the friends that are always true.
The life you lead is like that of a child,
Sometimes your calm and sometimes your wild.
We walk outside every day,
And that is when we all like to play.
If life was as simple as it seems to be for you,
We would be content and happy too.
Your loyalty is one of love,
You are gifts from heaven above.
Its hard to think of you as just my pets,
When you are the best friends I could ever get.
I know to most your only the dogs that live here,
But to me your the friends that are always near.
Who make my Christmas complete

Now, let's see if mom can find you a treat.

A Child of the Universe.... (for those I love.)

You are a child of the universe,
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
And remember what peace there may be, in silence.
As far as possible without surrender,
Be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly,
And listen to others,
Even the dull and ignorant;
They too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
They are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
You may become vane and bitter;

For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career,
However humble;
It is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
For the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
Many persons strive for high ideals;
And everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
For in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
It is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the council of the years,
Gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline;
Be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
No doubt the universe is unfolding;
As it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
Whatever you conceive Him to be,
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
In the noisy confusion of life,
Keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham,
Drudgery and broken dreams,
It is still a beautiful world.
Be careful. Strive to be happy.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.

Join Me for A Cup of Tea with the Potter.

I'm a Little Tea Cup..

There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups.
 (me too)

Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."

As the lady  handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "Don't
do that. I don't like it! Let me alone," but he only smiled, and gently said, "Not yet."

Then WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was made to suit himself and then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door. "Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, "Not yet."

When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought.

But, after I  cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. "Oh, please, stop it, stop, I cried." He only shook his head and said, "Not yet."

Then suddenly he puts me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I
just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up. Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering, "What's he going to do to me next?"

An hour later he handed me a mirror and said, "Look at yourself." And I did. I said, "That's not me. That couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!"

Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember. I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you  alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You
would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you."

The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us. He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill  His good, pleasing and perfect will.

So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", try this.

Brew a cup of your favorite tea in your prettiest tea cup, sit down and think on this story and then, have a little talk with the Potter.

Let's Take the X out of Christmas

Sometime during the last century (it is difficult to find an actual beginning), the word “Xmas” began creeping into public correspondence and advertisements. It was a little thing, hardly noticed by anyone, but it set the stage for a profound movement away from “Christ” in any public discourse. X is, of course, the universal symbol for the unknown.

Quietly and unobtrusively at first, but rising to a crescendo of legal and governmental attacks against Christianity, the words and the symbols of the gospel message are being purged from open expression.

A steady drumbeat of lawsuits, threatening letters, and joint amicus briefs have been generated by the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), the Americans United for Separation of Church and State (AU), and other national organizations such as the Freedom From Religion Foundation, pounding away at any semblance of the Christian message. The ACLU even has a separate unit dedicated to the fight for the “equal treatment” of all religions, euphemistically titled the ACLU Program on Freedom of Religion and Belief.

There are many examples that could be given, but here are just a few that have developed in the past several years.

·        The fight over the World War II memorial cross in the middle of the Mojave Desert is still being waged between the ACLU and Congress. Meanwhile, someone has stolen the cross.

·        The city of Avon Lake, Ohio, placed a sign in front of City Hall that read, “Remember Christ is in Christmas.” The AU objected and the city took it down.

·        The Parks & Recreation Committee in Menominee, Michigan, was going to place a crèche in the band shell of a public park. The AU claimed this would violate the Establishment Clause and the committee
built a “holiday display” instead that contained all of the “winter” symbols.

·        Handel’s Messiah was performed in Holladay, Utah, during the Christmas season, for which the city provided a “discount” to the choral and orchestra for the use of government facilities. Strong letters were written to the city and the city leaders caved in. No more Messiah in city venues.

·        A public school in Connecticut was using an evangelical chapel for graduation ceremonies. Some teachers, parents, and students complained that they were “forced” to view a large cross and hear music that spoke of Jesus and salvation. This was very “offensive” to them. The result: lawsuits and judgments declaring unconstitutional the use of “religious” venues for public school ceremonies.

In human terms, the ACLU is large and successful, with over 500,000 members and dues-paying supporters, 200 staff attorneys, and offices in all 50 states. Other organizations, like the Freedom from Religion Foundation, are quite small, with fewer than 16,000 members. Texas has its own Texas Freedom Network that brags on its website that its 45,000 members have become a “trusted” source for all the major print and news networks in the nation.

All insist, of course, that they are “only” defending the Establishment Clause of the Constitution, and that all individuals are free to “worship” however they wish—just don’t try to do it on any public or government property.

President Barack Obama and wanna-be president Hillary Clinton (along with a vast majority of Democratic politicians) have started using the term “freedom of worship” instead of “freedom of religion.” That small change has vast implications should those words signal a change in official policy. Freedom of religion implies your freedom to assemble, proselytize, and conduct your personal life in a manner reflective of your religious beliefs. Freedom of worship is and can be limited to mere personal and private expressions of religious beliefs, negating all public demonstrations of what one believes. Worship can be confined to a designated place—or restricted to one’s private thoughts.

Mark Twain once observed: “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter.”

The President of the United States NOW refers to a Christmas Tree (Christmas is still a National Holiday) as a “holiday tree”. “Holiday” is the Anglicized form of “Holy Day.” The original meaning has been totally lost. “Holy” has nothing to do with our holidays. The term has come to mean “no work.” We are conditioned to think of weekends as “regular holidays” and the “special holidays” as mere extensions of free time in which we can do pretty much whatever we want to do.

Halloween has been prostituted from the original All Hallows Eve in which one was supposed to prepare for worship the next morning on All Saints’ Day. Granted, the “eve” fairly quickly turned into sensual and mischievous license, since one was assured of confession and absolution the next day. Now, Halloween has become the most glaring promotion of wickedness and demonic representation imaginable—all in the name of “fun” and “celebration” and with absolutely no thought of seeking confession and absolution.

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter! (Isaiah 5:20)

We were hardly out of Halloween (the advertisements for which began sometime in late August), mostly skipped Thanksgiving (which had little to do with any giving of thanks), before we rushed into the “winter holidays”—the secularized, sanitized, and commercialized version of Saturnalia, the pagan and sensual ritual of worshiping the winter solstice. In the words of a rather well-known slogan, “You’ve come a long way, baby.”

Christmas, even for many Christian families, has become more about the giving of gifts than the Giver of Gifts (James 1:17). Churches all across the country will host organ recitals and promote cantatas, dramatic extravaganzas, and musical productions that stress entertainment more than the eternal message of forgiveness, salvation, and the coming King.

May I humbly suggest that more of us need to spend time with our families teaching them the wonder and majesty of God’s incarnation. The first 14 verses of John’s Gospel need to be read to our children along with the section in Philippians 2:5-11, in addition to the first three chapters of the Gospel of Luke.

Those who have positions of leadership in their churches or at their places of ministry should try to encourage their pastors and other leaders to keep a strong emphasis on the reason for Christ’s birth. All too often the baby Jesus is left cute and cuddly among the barn animals, smiling benignly up at the poor shepherds.

Oh yes, we repeat the song of the angel chorus and tell of the wise men who came from afar to give the gifts of honor to the newborn king.

Please understand. The actual birth of Jesus was absolutely ordinary in every human way, even if the story is gripping in its emotion and wonder. The miracle was the conception. The good tidings were that God had become man to “save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21).

Please take the “X” out of Christmas.

A Wonderful Life

Its A Wonderful Life

I have always been a woman who honors and celebrates tradition... and I will probably go to my grave being an old fashioned traditionalist. This is never more apparent then at Christmas time.


To me, holiday traditions are sacred and when Doug and I first married, I began bringing those traditions to life in our family... something he initially shyed away from as he did not much care for Christmas back then but which, in our later years, he came to love and got into the spirit with.. It is traditions that keep memories alive and lets them be rekindled with each holiday, birthday, anniversary... or something as simple as a walk in the park.

When the children were small, we would bundle up on the day after Thanksgiving, and head out to the country to cut down a Christmas Tree... Doug was highly allergic to pine (hard on a hunter and hiker) but always cut one down (chosen by the "special" child that year) and helped me get it into the house. I would have them string popcorn and make ornaments while we watched movies and sipped cocoa and I strung the lights (one light on every branch, carefully wired).  My oldest son, Douglas, became a wonder at untangling and testing lights for me... something I know he hated but did with love for the season.

One of my favorite Christmas holiday traditions is the watching of holiday movies from A Charlie Brown Christmas with the playful snoopy and philosophical Linus, to Garfield's Christmas which always makes me think of my children growing up and turning the lights on our tree for the first time, to The Bishops Wife and my all time favorite Its a Wonderful Life ( one of my greatest memories is of my oldest son Douglas as a young adult yelling out "ZuZus Petals!!"... how I hold on to those memories).

In 1946 Frank Capra had no idea his sentimental small town "fantasy" would become a seasonal favorite of our age. In this movie, it is Christmas Eve, the night of miracles, and George Bailey certainly needs one. After a life time of helping others, he is giving up on his own life. He is broke, disgraced, facing prison, and in deep despair over a savings and loan shortage that truly is not his fault. After angrily wishing that he had never been born, he is about ready to throw himself off of a bridge into a raging ice cold river, when he is rescued by his guardian angel who temporarily grants him his wish by showing him what the world would have been like if he truly had never been born.

George, like to many of us, truly believes he has never had a lucky break but when he steps back, away from himself, and see things as they really are, he realizes that all of his choices, as painful as some may have been, were the right ones. He is also a wealthy man... oh not in material things but in the important things of family, healthy children, work, and more friends then his house can ever hold at one time. He realizes that, quite frankly, it is a wonderful life he is about to throw away.

So today, admid some major turmoil and health issues, I too am stepping back to take another look at my life and I invite you, dear reader, to do the same. We can step back and take a look at our lives and the lives of those we have touched. One of the unexpected blessings of writing my latest book of poetry has been in going back over what seems like ordinary moments in my life and mining them for meaning. Writing a poem about an encounter, mistake, regret or a conversation is very revealing -- probably even more so then keeping a journal. Every day while writing that book I have had a topic to meditate on, usually a title or a quote and always a fresh clean blank page. Generally, I find out what I am writing about only AFTER I am well into it or even revising the poem for the fourth of fifth time. And, in this process, what I have learned, as can you, is that I truly have enjoyed a wonderful life. That knowledge resonates within me today, as I work on writing my first novel,  and for that I am deeply grateful. Obviously, there are many things I wish I had not done and crisis I have brought upon myself; but now I see that experience is nothing more then a loving teacher, much like my friends and neighbors.

So in this Christmas season, and for those yet to come, I hope you will seriously consider writing your own meditations and gratitudes of life. Start slowly. Write just one a week or even once a month. Search for the sacred in the ordinary for it is there... present in all things. Nothing in a life is too insignificant to be a source of inspiration.

We do not write in order to be understood... we write in order to understand.

If you start out writing your own thoughts, meditations, and gratitudes, what you will remember, recognize, and understand is that Its A Wonderful Life!!!

Remember to enjoy each wonderfilled day to its fullest! 

Christmas IS about Presents...

One of my favorite books  is Louisa May Alcott's "Little Women". After my Mary became a teenager, I often felt that the main character, Jo, reminded me of her; strong, quick to anger, quick to forgive, caring, nurturing, feisty and highly intelligent. In this book Jo is quoted as saying "Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents"... She states this during what was a major civil war and when money let alone food was hard to come by. Even then, Christmas was about gifts and it always has been. As uncomforable as this may make us feel with all of the emphasis on gimme, gimme,gimme; buy, buy, buy, or charge, charge, charge, it is a sad fact of our world... even many of those who are not Christian have adopted Christmas in some form with this exact idea in mind; Christmas is about presents.

So, you, like me probably admonish(ed) our children to remember the reason for the season, even though we apparently have difficulty remembering it ourselves while we are caught up in the chaos, the materialism, the commercialism (to paraphrase Charlie Brown) of Christmas.

So, today, I am meditating on the Real role of gifts in the Christmas story (and no, I do not mean a fringed lampshade sitting on a net stockinged base). I am talking about those gifts that were wrapped in miracles, which is probably why we will never find them in malls, or on line, or in a catalog...

The first gift was the gift of Spirit, also known as unconditional love.

The second gift came from a young Jewish girl named Miriam; she gave the gift of selflessness. She completely surrendered her ego and will which was needed to bring Heaven down to earth.

Then we have the gifts of her fiance/husband Joseph which were trust and faith. He trusted Mary when she said she had not laid with another man and he believed in the divine plan that was sent to get them through what was truthfully one horrid mess.

The Christ child brought the gifts of forgiveness, second chances, and wholeness; repair.

The choir of angels brought the gifts of comfort, joy and peace as well as the reassurance that there was nothing to fear. They brought a reason to be joyful.

The poor little shepherd boys gift was generosity as the only thing he had to give was (no not a drum song) his favorite lamb.

The innkeepers wife gave gifts of compassion and charity in the form of a dry safe place for a homeless family to stay, her best cover to wrap the new born baby in and a meal for the family and hay for their beast of burden who had carried them all that way.

Then there were the three kings from the east who had followed a bright star in search of a royal birth that sages of yore had said would lead them to the birth place of the King of Kings. On their camels backs were treasures with which to honor the baby's arrival. But when they arrived they were NOT led to a palace. They found this newborn prince in of all places a cow stall. How shocked these Wise Men must have been as they unwrapped their gold, frankincense, and myrrh... expensive gifts to be sure. But their real gifts were pricelss as they were wonder, acceptance, and courage. They offered wonder by surrendering logic, reason, and common sense. Accepting the impossible, they suspended skepticism long enough to double cross the insane King Herod who was frantically searching for the child who it was said would change the world. And, with courage, at the risk of their own lives, these Wise Men helped the young family escape to a safe haven in Egypt until the danger had passed.

Oh yes, Christmas is truly about gifts. It is nothing but gifts. But oh such wonderous gifts. Gifts tied not with bows but with heartstrings. Gifts that surprise and delight long after the newness or the "battteries" wear out. Gifts that nurture the souls of both the giver and the given. Perfect, authentic, soul driven, gifts. The gifts of Spirit all wrapped up in a frightened teenage girl, her bewildered boyfriend, a child, angels, a shepherd boy, an inkeepers wife and Three Kings. The gifts of the Magi.

Unconditional Love.
Selflessness
Trust
Faith
Forgiveness
Wholeness
Second Chances
Comfort
Joy
Peace
Reassurance
Rejoicing
Generosity
Compassion
Charity
Wonder
Acceptance
Courage.

These are the gifts I long to give and to receive this year. Yes the economy is hard and money tight.. and the gimmees are still running wild. But to give such gifts as these... to truly open our hearts to receive such gifts gratefully is the gift the Universe offers to all of us, no matter what our religious belief.

Christmas just won't be Christmas without any presents... How right you were little Jo...

Amen