Here we are again. Christmas is in the air and on the airwaves. The trees in the Woods bow before the coming Christ. The clouds have on their festive attire. Mr. Badger is wearing his Christmas Vest and has his Santa Pocket Watch in his vest pocket. Mr. Mole is tidying up as the big day approaches, as he is hosting Christmas Dinner. The Deer are bringing pumpkin pie. Mr. Toad is bringing the firecrackers.

The winds of change are blowing. So many are without food or warm clothes. They sleep in tent encampments close to the Warming Center. The man sits nodding at the Walmart picnic table, a meager plastic bag holding his Christmas possessions. He seeks the holiday spirit from his Camel cigarettes. If it were not so cold, he would sleep a little. A forlorn forboding permeates his eyes. A world weariness for the yearly promise of better things and peace on Earth. Peace to him is a decent meal of soup and bread and a cot to sleep on indoors instead of the tattered tent.

Happy children exit Walmart with Switch IIs and expensive Christmas gifts. They laugh when they think of surprises and mysteries awaiting them on Christmas morning. There will be plum pudding and roast goose. Also figgy pudding and a warm fire in the fireplace. They know not fear or want. Their fat cheeks are rosy aglow with the message that the Baby Jesus came to Earth because he loves all the little children of the world. Red, yellow, black, and white are all precious in his sight. The Christmas Stockings hung by the chimmeny with care are bursting with Christmas Joy.

The poor black man lit another Camel and puffed reflectively. He had grown up in a house full of life and love at Christmas. He danced about the Christmas Tree with delight on Christmas morning. Mama made Christmas Coffee Cake and fudge for Christmas. Daddy recited the Christmas Story and gave the man his sisters and brothers’ pocket knives for a Christmas remembrance. Daddy was a mechanic and worked on the big rigs in Chicago. He rode a Harley Davidson motorcycle and wore a leather motorcycle cap. He laughed easily and often. The old black man’s dad and mother divorced, and the old man went to live with his Dad. Dad had lost his way. Dad spent the day smoking Camel cigarettes and waiting for a ride to town to buy more. The old black man got into a little trouble with the law. Nothing major, but he did a year in the Penitentiary. Everything changed for him when he was released. He had been to Mechanics’ School, but no one wanted to hire him.

‘Let’s invite all of the forgotten and homeless to a Christmas Feast,’ Jane said with glee. ‘A kind word of Christmas Joy is what they need and a demonstration that someone cares about them,’ Jane said. ‘We can do what the government will not,’ Jane exulted. ‘We will bring them to Mr. Badger’s and Mr. Moles’ Christmas Dinner in the Woods,’ Jane sang. ‘We will have a large table where no one is lesser or greater,’ Jane laughed.

‘Welcome to my home, Clyde. I have heard so much about you,’ Mr. Mole said with a broad smile. ‘I have made Christmas Coffee Cake like your Mom used to make, and there is fudge too,’ Mr. Mole said with a Christmas Dance.