It was the night before Christmas when I heard a scream,
It wasn’t from the hallway, from a room, or even a dream
No, what I heard on that fateful night, was the soul scream from things not being right.
” We need money for almost every dream, we need money for almost every thing, we have started to think, mistakenly so, that money is the thing we need.
You can’t pay your electric bill, with hope and a prayer,
When the electric bill gets paid, the money better be there,
If you are sick and can’t think, or sleep, into your car to a Doctor, a pharmacy, or a clinic you must creep,
Even with a fever, a stupor, or pain in your ear, You’d better keep money, or credit card near
It is money we want, and money we need, and we , even in Christmas follow this creed.
They say it is the thought that counts, giving that completes,
so how come with the gifts we give, it is the prices that compete?
If you got socks you can use, or perfume that you can’t, you think the smile, the companionship, the love that it shows, would be enough,
But you can’t compete with an Ipad, or cash, or even a car, for none is enough…
So in the season of Heavenly cheer, realize the world that Scrooge admired is already here…open up your window, let the Spirits appear,
Just visit for good will, the food, and good cheer, with nary a gift within sight, or even very near,
Find out about the life of someone you cherish, or hold dear
And have a glass of water, or maybe a beer, be pleasant, and fun, and thoughtfully appear, to have been glad to be invited, and that you hold that dear, to your heart,
Without any gifts, of the mercantile kind, you can leave from door with a smile as wide as your behind, because as you left, and went to depart, you left no money, no gifts, no rewards, just a bit of yourself that you didn’t hoard.
So Merry Chistmas this year, and stay out of the store, tell a story of your past, and then tell one more, regale the children with hidden glee, of the way their Dad and their Mommy used to be,
Then giggle and chuckle as you eat the food, one dish per person brought to the hood, no one person cooking from dawn until dusk, so sweaty from cooking and hoping it comes our right, that she has only stress and overwhelm in her stocking that night
So, one dish a piece, bring your own beer, be prepared to smile, to listen, to hear, and what a Christmas you will have….this year.
Merry Xmas, Kevin