Posted under CoffeeTime
Merry Christmas to all of our readers at CHT. By now you’ve probably dispensed with opening presents, church, watching A Christmas Story and are probably talked out with relatives or are done with Christmas dinner. So if your back on the computer (and I know some of you are) perhaps these articles my make good reading for the duration of this blessed day.
Again Merry Christmas to you all and hope for a better new year than the last
“Twas the Night before Liberal Christmas” by J.J. Jackson at Liberty Reborn
“Occupy Extreme and Establishment Moderate” by SARTRE at BATR
“The Greatest Christmas Carol” by Gary North at Lew Rockwell.com
“The Soldier’s Choice” by Timothy Egan at New York Times website
“The Story of Christmas Truce of 1914″ at the Guardian
“Immigration Impasse” by Jim Antle at TAC
“Grim Christmas” by Dr. Srdja Trifkovic at Chronicles
Our friend Roy Moore has just filed his paperwork to run for the Alabama Supreme Court once again. His wife email use a Christmas poem I would like to share:
His wife and his kids were in bed.
Christmas was near, but he was out of a job
And could barely keep his family fed.
Because he had little wood left to burn.
This would be a sad Christmas with cupboards so bare,
For he had run out of places to turn.
And knelt by an old chair to pray.
“Dear Lord,” he said, as a tear he shed,
“I don’t know just what I should say.”
‘Twas a young man in the shivering night.
His coat was old and his shoes were worn;
He was really quite a pitiful sight.
“And my home is still far away.
If I may warm by your fire for a while,
Only a minute I will stay.”
And made him a bite to eat.
“You’re very kind, sir,” said the young lad,
As the old man gave him his seat.
Dressed so ragged and bare?”
“I’m headed home,” replied the young man,
“My father waits for me there.
If only his face I could see.
When I get home, I’ll have all I need,
For there with my father I’ll be.”
And brought out the only coat he had.
“Here, take my coat,” he said with a smile,
“For the weather is exceptionally bad.”
For he wanted his name to know.
But when he looked out the door, the stranger had gone,
And not a trace could be found in the snow.
Higher than a man could build.
And when he looked in the kitchen, he couldn’t believe
That all the cupboards were filled.
Was now one made of pure gold.
On the back of the chair, a note was pinned,
And this is the message it told.
You’ve been a good brother to me.
What a man sows, so shall he reap,
And thus, it shall always be.
And gave me what you needed too.
Now as you have done for a stranger in need,
So shall it be done unto you.”