A powerful wind blew. Cold air was arriving. The trees were bare. The Old Man braced against the chill. He walked with determination and Christmas resolve. The Woods Animals followed with dancing and song. Some sang Silent Night while others hummed Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

There were only two weeks left until Christmas. There were surprise Christmas gifts to buy. Had he forgotten anyone? Christmas held a special place in the Old Man’s heart. His fondest memories centred on Christmas with Neva J, on their days of plenty and days of poverty. First, as a middle-class family in Chicago living on a street and in a home reminiscent of the television show Leave It To Beaver. In the blink of an eye, it reversed to him and Neva J not having enough money for milk. Yet Neva J always found money for a happy Christmas.

Laughing Santa was always there for the Old Man in his youth. He laughed heartily in the good times and the bad. His face was a mischievous grin. There was a Christmas Movie at the Orpheum Theatre, where the Lions provided Christmas Gift Baskets for each child. The Baskets were resplendent and included a Soaky, which contained bubble bath and came in many comical figures such as the Three Stooges.

More money is needed for necessities. Affordability is a real issue, not a scam. Many good people from both political parties will be unable to pay for health insurance in the New Year. ‘Are there no poorhouses?’ Scrooge asked.

The Spirit of Christmas Present is watching. Who is cold and who is safe and warm? The Spirit of Christmas sees all humanity as God’s Children. Mary and Joseph found no room in the Inn. The barn was the birthplace of Christ. The sheep were there and the oxen. They held their heads high, smiling as the Spirit of Christmas was with them in the form of a little Baby in a manger.

The hustle and bustle of Christmas ebbs and flows. There are parties, shopping, and decorating the Christmas Tree. Brilliant wrapping paper from Paper Source and resplendent ribbon from the old world. A memorable Dirty Santa Christmas gift exchange that will not soon be forgotten. Family, you wish you could be with them much more often than you are. Having two-inch porkchops in a Victorian Christmas-decorated private room at Patti’s Settlement in Kentucky. Yet there are silent pauses along the Christmas path.

A special aura rests over Christmas. The happenings are marvelous and mysterious. The world is seen through red and green glasses. We are reminded that we will be here for only some Christmases. It is a privilege that those before us treasured. The photos of our memories remind us of Christmas past. We have arrived in our future. No longer do we sit at the kids’ table. Now we are the patriarchs and matriarchs of the festivities. The young among us look to us and watch us for our reactions to the holy event.

The Woods were silent as the Old Man walked its paths. The deer dances around him, smiling. Neva J follows singing, ‘Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, won’t you please put a penny in the old man’s hat. If you haven’t got a penny, a haypenny will do if you haven’t got a haypenny. God Bless You.’

We will sit at the Christmas Table with many who have gone beyond the Veil. They will laugh at our jokes and take another slice of Christmas Goose. They know what is in store for us and want to give us the good news.

The Old Man is still reveling from his weekend visit with the Tennessee Brooks. Sometimes you do not realize how much you are enjoying an event until you look back on it. The blessing of a family that loves you and you them is priceless.

The sandstone rocks and cliffs in the Woods were unchanged this morning. Time works its magic slowly for their kind. Not so with we humans, though. We change yearly. The changes are subtle but cumulative. If we do not often gaze at our reflection, we are a bit suprised at the person looking back at us. I admire the Hollywood stars who refuse plastic surgery. They want to look natural with all of the lines of life.

The Old Man’s Guardian Angel noted that someone was following them in the Winter Woods, and it was not Santa Claus. Behind them strode a sure-footed man of 40 with big steps and a surety of stride and purpose.

So, is there an alternate universe? Marcy and I discussed it over the weekend. How do we explain the Mandela Effect? Millions of people believe that things have occurred that did not, such as the Disney character Tinker Bell using her magic wand to spread pixie dust over the Disney Logo. I have seen this happen countless times. Yet it never happened. How could this be? Many remember Nelson Mandela dying in prison. He was released from prison and ruled South Africa for a time. Many believe that they watched the funeral of Billy Graham years before he died. Are we living in our chapter of a many-chaptered book?

Our Christmas memories run deep. I remember Christmases of my youth, and I am transported there. Are those life events still occurring while we grow old?

So we walk by faith and not by sight. What we see is not all there is. You may have noticed the image looking around the corner that disappears when discovered. Or when I visited Oxford University and had the distinct impression that I had been there before. We are working with limited knowledge. Perhaps if we were not so prejudiced and positive about our way being the right way, we could learn from others with a different perspective.

‘Santa said he remembered me,’ Jane said with a laugh. ‘He recalled when I requested a Thumbelina, and he had to look all over the North Pole to find one,’ Jane giggled. ‘I felt like I was five years old as he spoke with me while the pipe in his mouth emanated smoke like a wreath around his head,’ Jane winked. ‘Santa told me that I had not changed and that I would not,’ Jane smiled.

‘Santa told me that this year I would receive a Big Swinger for Christmas as I did when I was in sixth grade,’ Billy B chuckled. Santa said he knew I was looking for one, and although I thought that they were no longer manufactured, he had some in stock at the North Pole. Billy B danced on one foot and then the other. ‘He told me that I am forever young and I would understand what he said soon,’ Billy B said as he sang Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

Christmas came early for the Tennessee and Illinois Brooks. We just returned from a wonderful visit with Marcy Brock, Jaime Jeb and Morgan. We did the Dirty Santa. It was a high point of the festivities. I got a glass with a Brooks inscription. Also, some Moonshine. I relished the familial bond we have forged over the past 10 years. I am the representative of the beginning of our Dad’s lineage, and Brock is the culmination. Brock was born a year after I graduated from high school. The surprise revealing of the Tennessee Brooks in 2012 has been a rich blessing in MJ and my Golden Years. Brock is a talented man. I marvel at his expertise. As Jeb told me a few years ago, his Dad and I look alike.

Jeb and I laughed at the unique two-inch pork chop. Jeb tried my size 15 ring on, and it was amazing how big my hands are compared to the average bear. Jeb is a mild-mannered and sweet person. He is a wonderful nephew. His dry humour is compelling. Jeb is the kind of person that you want to be around at every opportunity.

Morgan is a special person. I strive to be the person who makes others comfortable, but Morgan made me comfortable with her kind comments and sweet demeanour. Morgan told me that I had the appearance of a dignified old man and could make a Dos Equis commercial. Morgan can make beautiful items out of things no one would think of. She is a craftperson with a keen eye and a brilliant ability.

Marcy is like my sister. I call her Sis. She is a wonderful person. Anything Marcy tells me, I am fully convinced. Marcy has a light about her that encourages all she meets. She is practical and ethereal at the same time.

Jaime is an angel in human form. Just her presence causes celebration. She is keenly perceptive, listening and watching for all nuances of those around her. Jaime is an angel among us sent to bless us and reveal what love is.

The Tennessee Brooks and the Illinois Brooks were blessed with a private dining room at Patty’s Restaurant in Grand Rivers, Kentucky. We did not request it, but there it was with an intimacy ordered by Santa Claus. There we were, the Brooks family from two states. We got to know each other better. We bonded. We laughed about the absurd uniqueness of two-inch pork chops. The Old man thought of what lay ahead and what had come before.
Where would we be this time next year?

The Old Man walked in the cold woods. The wind cut like a knife. He indulged in warm thoughts on a blustery December day. The Old Man thought of the excitement of the Eiffel Tower with his friends Margo and Jeff. He laughed when he recalled the Tower attendant asking to see inside MJ’s backpack, only to find a four-pack of toilet tissue. He laughed with a crooked-tooth grin and called his colleagues to see the contents.

Gatlinburg, Tennessee, is a great Christmas Vacation. The beautifully decorated town with the Smoky Mountains as a backdrop is a holiday treat. The Moonshine is to be sipped slowly. I found my leather hat there and have worn it for 30 years. We attended a Christmas Play at Dollywood in Pigeon Forge that was a heartwarming experience. The chestnuts roasting on an open fire were mesmerizing.

We live in a technicolor dream. Often, what our minds believe we can achieve. I grew up an only child. I am going to see my brother and his family now. They are a delight, and my sister-in-law seems like my sister.

‘It is good to be old,’ Guardian Angel said. ‘We learn by experience, I hope,’ GA continued. ‘We do not accumulate life’s knowledge and wisdom to bury it in the grave,’ GA explained. ‘It is of great use beyond the Veil,’ GA promised. ‘Your friends add to who you are,’ GA said. ‘They have a place in the story,’ GA smiled. ‘Experiences fit together like a 1,000-piece puzzle. You can not see the full image until it is completed, Guardian Angel laughed.

‘Who is following us?’ Old Man asked? ‘When I look over my shoulder, they stop and laugh and wave,’ Old Man observed. ‘They appear to know me, and they look familiar like Deja vu,’ Old Man noted. ‘I feel I know them and we have visited on many occassions, yet their following us seems etheral and a bit frightening,’ Old Man pondered. ‘In some of my dreams, I wonder if the dream is my reality more than my waking state,’ Old Man mused.

‘That is your fan club, dear friend,’ Guardian Angel said with a laugh. ‘They know you well,’ GA winked. ‘Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.),’ Walt Whitman said. ‘You sat at the Ale House with C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, and you walked the halls and rooms of Oxford,’ GA smiled. ‘You are a manifestation of destiny and the result of a colorful past,’ GA chuckled. ‘It is Yuletide and time to rejoice,’ GA danced on one foot and then the other. ‘The Dream continues,’ Guardian Angel said as he disappeared…

So here we are together again. The colorful lights are in our eyes, and Christmas is in our hearts. We look where we are and wonder where we will be. Nat King Cole is singing chestnuts roasting on an open fire, and Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Unique creations are we. We are more wonderful than a handblown Christmas glass ornament. Special we are and proudly showing our seams. The Creator works with many colors. He likes diversity. God enjoys something different.

The Shepherds saw the Star by night that led them to the Miracle of the Ages in a tiny package. A stable with animals that belonged there. Hay and probably animal dung. Mary and Joseph traveled a long way to fulfill what God had asked them. They were not elite. They were not rich or known among the wise Pharisees. They were simple folk, poor and content to follow the Star. The political leaders of the day were unaware of Christ’s birth. They did not get the memo. There was no proclamation in the Temple on the high Holy Days. There was neither a feast nor a celebration, but a quiet invitation to those who would be vital to the Story. You see, there is what is going on in the popular story of our time, and then there is the real Story that many diverse poor and humble people are vital to its telling.

We gather to celebrate the birth of the Little Miracle. He was like us. He was unsung and unheralded. He was born with the sheep and oxen. He enjoyed seeing the Seams in his small celebration of Birth. After all, he was God and Man in the incarnate gift to humanity. Jesus relished the Seams in his creation. He understood every stitch. What a peculiar creation that would carry the Christian message. Neither was accepted by the elite or the religious leaders. Washer Women and Laborers, black and white folks loved him, and he loved them. A woman caught in adultery and those who enjoyed wine and song. The tax collector and the fisherman loved him because he saw their needs and their Seams and rejoiced! They were his creation he loved them all for their uniqueness.

Winter weather has struck our area. Not midwinter, but a shock to the system when you are not accustomed to the cold snow and ice. It was not long ago that we were wondering when the heat would break. Now we are looking for the heater. So this is Christmas, and what have we done? John Lennon asked. We are in the morning of the Season. Morning is a good time. We feel strong in the morning. Fresh and renewed, ready for the challenges of the day. Time is as special as we make it.

Time in the etheral dimension. We are here again. We have been here before. The Old Man wished his colleagues Merry Christmas with wine and song. It was important to him that everyone felt a part of the organisation and that their voices mattered. Hands holding hands and hearts knitted together could not be broken. Each member’s strength lay in the next person in the Holiday Chain. The Christmas Unity was based on love for the diversity of God’s Creation. The Old Man understood that he was a servant who was no greater than the last person hired. University was a wonderful place to be. It could direct to life, and it was life. There was a sense of place and purpose, a mission for helping others. It was a bit mystical. It was magical. Miracles happened for many a life, career, and road map.

Scrooge remembered Mr Fezziwig’s kindness at Christmas. Mr Fezziwig treated Scrooge with appreciation for Scrooge’s shared humanity. There was more than numbers and ledgers, balance sheets. There were people, the most important of any business. A Christmas Dance to be enjoyed and laughter for the year that had been. A roasted goose to cook and Tiny Tim singing louder than any in the Christmas Eve congregation. Figgy Pudding with its infinite delights. A cold office but a warm heart.

Ignorance and Want looked out from the Ghost of Christmas Present’s robes. Each of these waifs is always with us, not only at Christmas but throughout the year. What shall we do as John Lennon sang?

‘Cruelty is king,’ said the Politician. ‘We are making straight the crooked path that our predecessors left us,’ the Politician continued. Christmas love and compassion are demonstrated through tough love,’ the Politician exclaimed. ‘Are there no Poorhouses?’ the Politician asked with a sneer. ‘Now the true Americans will take their rightful place among the pantheon of heroes,’ the politician promised. ‘We shall purge all of the undesirable people, let them go back to where they came from,’ the Politician said as he sat down to a Christmas Feast.

Marley’s Ghost wailed in the alley as his chains clanked and rattled as he passed by the hungry and sick, the marginalised and those who were not the accepted colour or nationality.

‘Snow is on the way, ‘Chet said with a sly grin. ‘We just had Thanksgiving, and now it is time for winter, Chet noted. ‘Where the multicolored leaves of fall go,’ Chet laughed. ‘I think we should go to the North Pole and help Santa and Mrs. Claus this year,’ Chet exclaimed. ‘There has not been such a year in some time,’ Chet whispered. ‘The stranger is no longer welcome in our land,’ Chet observed. ‘If Mary and Joseph came to the Inn Door, they would triple bolt it,’ Chet continued.

‘Santa needs assistance weaving blankets for the homeless and insulated tents with solar heaters to ward off the winter freeze,’ Jane said. ‘The elves have opened a new workshop for quick construction of Little Homes for the Homeless,’ Jane observed. ‘It is modeled after Jimmy Carter and his yeoman work for Habitat for Humanity,’ Jane explained. ‘Santa has reserved a place for us at the North Pole Workshop,’ Jane laughed with joy.

‘Ho Ho Ho, welcome my friends,’ Santa exclaimed. ‘Your help is vital for this Christmas, so many people are in need and despairing for the want of raiment and a place to lay their tired heads,’ Santa said with passion. ‘People are working two and three jobs and still in poverty,’ Santa observed. ‘They can not find the Spirit of Christmas,’ Santa said sorrowfully. Mrs. Claus can not sleep, and I have bags under my eyes, and they do not contain Christmas Presents,’ Santa explained. ‘The gift requests come in rapidly, and they are not for toys or Switch IIs but for some food to stave off the pain of hunger,’ Santa said with tears in his eyes.

‘This year I want a Switch II and an Oregon Trail game to play on the system, as well as a Bases Loaded and Mario,’ Billy B requested from Santa. ‘I would like a Polaroid Camera to take photos on Christmas morning,’ Billy B. continued. ‘Action Figures are my passion, and I want Daniel Boone, who looks like Fess Parker and Johnny West, Stony and Chief Cherokee,’ Billy B said with some satisfaction and purpose. ‘This 1963 Christmas will be the best ever,’ Billy B proclaimed.

‘We are no longer in 1963, and there is no President Kennedy,’ said Chet. ‘We are old men and things change,’ Chet explained. ‘There is a Nintendo Switch II, but the Action Figures you requested are antiques of Toyland,’ Chet noted. ‘Now it is not to ask what you can do for your country, it is to remove those who are not like us,’ Chet explained. ‘Cruelty is lauded and applauded,’ Chet informed Billy B. ‘Santa needs a helper like no time since the Great Depression,’ Chet said with feeling. ‘We must reach out to the voiceless and forgotten, the marginalized and unseen,’ Chet said while wiping tears from his eyes. ‘No one is coming for us; we must take the mission to the needy,’ Chet said softly.

So I have seen nothing to compare with the love I see this Christmas Season,’ Mrs. Claus said. ‘No elected leader can circumvent the will of the people; the people are inherently good, kind, and loving,’ Mrs. Santa Claus said with joy. ‘We are all different, we are unique creations of God,’ Mrs. Claus said. ‘God created us in his image and likeness, and his likeness is diverse, Mrs. Claus told with passion. ‘We are one of a kind creations like our creator,’ Mrs. Claus laughed. ‘When governmental leaders persecute those who look different from they, they are foolish and illustrate their misunderstanding of God,’ Mrs. Claus noted. ‘God can not be captured in a bottle like Jeannie from the old television show I Dream of Jeannie, Mrs. Claus said. ‘When we ignore the black or brown skinned traveler, we ignore Jesus and his family,’ Mrs. Claus said.

So we begin again. The first Sunday of Advent. We sang Advent songs in service this morning. Peaceful and a sense of place. Order in the midst of chaos. Christ is coming. He who captures human hearts with ideas of love instead of power. The sanctuary was lovely with Christmas decorations. The lighting of the first Advent candle inspired. Faith is an easy cloak to wear for your life. It is there in the good times and the not-so-good.

Jennifer took an iconic photo of MJ and me walking toward the Flood Wall in Paducah. It illustrates our love for each other for nearly 50 years. We are side by side for life.

Days of celebration are upon us. Days of grace and song. Lifting a glass of mead with friends. Laughing at the minor mistakes of the year and joy in the continued journey. The time for gift-giving is here. Santa, Mrs. Claus, the elves, and Rudolph with his red nose. A time for bright thoughts as the days shorten. There are White Elephant Christmas gifts for fun and holiday revelry.

I watched the Holiday Train at the Kentucky Oaks Mall and the speed with which the driver took the hairpin corners. She was fearless. The kids and kids at heart laughed with delight. So it goes with our human family. The driver is lively and quick, and we hold on for dear life. He is on a mission from God. God does not fool around. Everyone must get on board for the train trip of hills and valleys and sharp curves. Sometimes we laugh, and other times we cry. We know our destination and trust the Engineer to get us there safely. Once in a while, he seems preoccupied. Is he watching the football game? Does he have money on the game? Then the truth comes into view. A Veil is ahead that we want to see behind. We want to know the Secret. What waits beyond the Veil? Will there still be Holiday Trains? Certainly, there will not be a Hive Mentality. Each of us is unique. We listen to our own drummer. Heaven, God, and Christ are a bit different in all our eyes. Are we as special as the one who created us? The patriarchs of the Bible thought for themselves. They were people of strong opinions and strong will. Their individual charisma drew people to the story of the Baby in the Manger. It was thinking outside the box of the religion of Jesus’ time. There was no one-size-fits-all.