Writings and Layout
� 2001-2006 by Shiloh
times since Oct. 22, 2001
The "W" In Christmas
12-16-2002 E 9:05 p.m.
Ugh. That's all I have ta say. Not only have I thought today was the 17th all day long,but my good luck has been nil. I am trying to find a free html editor/generator like Dreamweaver or MS Frontpage or Adobe Pagemill to download like I was able with PSP 7. I've gotten the itch to design my own pages again and I don't wanna go around the net looking for codes to copy. I wanna be creative. But in the past two days my success rate has been *points thumb down* a downward spiral. I downloaded a 30-day trial of Dreamweaver, but when I went to install the dang blasted thang, it reported an error and wouldn't execute in opening the dad-blamed program! (Can you feel the heat in this impassioned rant?) I finally--after three tries--finally managed to download and install KaZaA. I was hoping I could search for MS Frontpage or Dreamweaver there and download it if a fellow user has it. But--I haven't--been--able--to--connect!!! Have I blown a gasket yet? *looks around for any gyros or gizmos that may have sprung loose during her tirade* I'll try tomorrow if there is time. And if not, somebody please point me in the right direction or send me their exe file of whatever html generator they have. Please? I'm poor and I don't have the $99 to buy Dreamweaver. On top of that, I can't find my favorite bookmark. *pitiful voice*

There are many Christmas stories and legends left that I wanna share with you that I've decided to continue in my sharing of the spirit. Tonight's is an email I got from Kjerstina a week or so ago. I don't who is talking as it was a forward. "The 'W' In Christmas."

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations--extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six-year-old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant." I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise. So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment--songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row- center stage--held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love."

The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down--totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W". The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W". Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together. A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities.

For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear: "CHRISTWAS LOVE" And, I believe, He still is.

I must admit I got teary-eyed at this point. Christ was love. The mother or father telling this story was right though. He still is.

Tonight our home teachers, who come once a month, planned Family Home Evening for us. Bro. H. brought his accordian and we sang Christmas carols before having a lesson on Christ, the Savior. Bro. H. reminded us He is called the Prince of Peace and Beloved Son [of God]. His wife and partner, marveled and commented what a wonderful title that is. Prince of Peace. I mean there is the Prince of Wales and Prince of Some-Other-Country, but to be the Prince of Peace (and all that peace is and means) is...magnificent! He is the new hope that each new year is bright with and promises.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"God bless us, every one."
~Tiny Tim, A Christmas Carol~


..:: Remembered�����E�����Occuring ::..

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