I have a problem with so-called reality shows. Can there be a survivor when no one dies? Everyone on the show is a survivor. The title should be Survivors. Big Brother just shows a group of people whose every move is recorded. And they know it. Keep in mind that a reality TV show may not have a script, even though each participant has an agenda.
They write their own scripts. I create dialogue as every writer does. Often it is done in our heads. Sometimes we write it down. Other times, we save it until we can use it at the appropriate time. I have certain lines I like to use. If you say, “That drives me crazy,” I reply, “That’s not a drive it’s a short putt.”
Saying that there is no written script for these shows does not make them reality. If you want reality, put together a program made of 100% security videos where all or most of those on camera do not realize they are being recorded. The problem with this is that it would be eavesdropping and therefore illegal.
If you want true drama, comedy, and spontaneity you should watch game shows. Especially the daytime ones where there are few questions that could be studied ahead of time. Jeopardy and the other knowledge related shows can be rehearsed with many different types of questions.
I think shows like that require the contestants to try out and prove that they will not stand there with a dumb look on their faces. Shows such as “Let’s Make a Deal” or “The Price is Right” allow people to act however they want and they encourage weird and unusual behavior.
The question I have about these folks is that they always look at the audience to receive help. Especially on Drew Carey’s program it appears to me that they select contestants that cannot or will not make their own decisions. When Wayne Bradey asks his players about their jobs, very few are managers that are required to know how to make split second decisions.
Even the women who look like they know the prices of groceries seem to know little about cars, vacations, or electronics. The men that shop for these products seem not to buy their own groceries, snacks or drinks, that’s why they are always looking at wives or girlfriends in the audience.
I’ve noticed some actual reality on these games. Some use their minds to weigh the odds and not take chances that are almost always easy to predict as losers. That brings me to another long-time contest called “Wheel of Fortune.” This is supposed to be like the brain busters with a gambling twist.
When someone risks their turn and what money they already have for the chance at a ten-thousand-dollar wedge which they never get to claim I cringe. LMAD also thrives on those who are into taking chances. I don’t understand risking a twenty-five-thousand-dollar car for a one out of three chance of gaining a prize that is not that expensive. I guess not everyone in LA drives.
“I was doing eighty on the highway because the Vice Principal said my second grader was caught “distributing contraband” in the cafeteria. I thought he had drugs. I was wrong. It was pepperoni.
I walked into the administrative office still wearing my work boots, drywall dust on my jeans. The secretary looked at me like I was going to track mud on her carpet. I didn’t care. I just wanted to see Leo.
I found him sitting on the “Cool Down Chair” in the corner of Vice Principal Miller’s office. He didn’t look scared. He didn’t look guilty. He looked confused. His hands were folded in his lap, and there was a smudge of tomato sauce on his chin.
“Mr. Russo, thank you for coming so quickly,” Mrs. Miller said. She was a nice enough woman, usually, but today she had the posture of a steel beam. “We have a zero-tolerance policy regarding the exchange of food items. It’s a liability issue. Allergies. Sanitary concerns. We simply cannot have students passing food around like… like it’s a free-for-all.”
She slid a discipline across the desk. Incident: Unauthorized distribution of lunch materials. Defiance of cafeteria protocol.
“He gave away his lunch?” I asked, looking at Leo. “That’s why I’m missing a half-day of pay? Because he gave away a slice of pizza?”
“It’s not just the pizza, Mr. Russo. It’s the defiance,” she sighed, adjusting her glasses. “The lunch monitor instructed Leo to keep his food to himself. He refused. He insisted on giving half to a classmate, Samuel. When told to stop, Leo argued with the monitor.”
I turned to my son. “Leo, buddy. Look at me. Why did you do that? You know you’re supposed to eat your own lunch.”
Leo looked up, his big brown eyes filled with frustration that seemed too heavy for a seven-year-old.
“Sam didn’t have a tray, Dad,” Leo said. His voice was small but steady.
“What do you mean?”
“It was Pizza Friday,” Leo explained, as if that explained everything. In elementary school, it basically did. “Sam got in line, but when he got to the register, the lady took his tray away. She threw the pizza in the trash bin behind her and gave him the cold cheese sandwich in the plastic bag. She said his account was ‘in the red.'”
I felt a tightening in my chest. I knew that term. I knew the ‘Cheese Sandwich of Shame.’ It happens when parents forget to load the lunch account or when money is tight.
“Sam started crying,” Leo continued. “He didn’t want the cold sandwich. He was hungry. So, I broke my pizza in half. I gave him the big piece.”
“And then?” I asked.
“Then the monitor came over and took it away from Sam. She threw that piece away, too. She said I was breaking the safety rules.” Leo pointed a small finger at the wall behind Mrs. Miller’s desk. “She said rules are rules.”
I looked where he was pointing.
Directly behind the Vice Principal’s head was a massive, laminated poster, decorated with bright primary colors and cartoon stars. It was the school’s motto for the year.
KINDNESS MATTERS.
Below it, in smaller print: In a world where you can be anything, be kind.
Leo looked at me, then at Mrs. Miller. “Dad, I’m confused. The poster is big. The rule book is small. I thought the big poster was the boss.”
The room went silent. The air conditioner hummed. Mrs. Miller opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked at the liability forms on her desk, then she turned around and looked at the poster she walked past every single morning.
The monitor said I was being bad,” Leo whispered. “But if I ate my pizza while Sam cried… wouldn’t that make me bad?”
Mrs. Miller took off her glasses. The corporate stiffness drained out of her shoulders. She was suddenly just a person in a room with a father and a son who had asked a question she couldn’t answer with a handbook.
“It’s a policy, Mr. Russo,” she said, her voice softer now, almost apologetic. “We have to protect the school from lawsuits. If Sam had an allergy…”
“Does Sam have an allergy?” I asked.
“No,” she admitted. “But we have to assume…”
“I know,” I cut her off. I stood up and pulled out my wallet. It was thin, but I had enough. “How much is Sam’s debt?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sam’s lunch account. How much is he in the red? Five bucks? Ten?”
“Mr. Russo, you don’t have to…”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. How much?”
She typed for a second. “Four dollars and fifty cents.”
I pulled out a twenty. “Clear it. And put the rest on Sam’s account for next week. And if Leo gives him a slice of pizza again, please just… look the other way.”
I didn’t wait for the change. I signed the disciplinary slip—admitting my son was a “disturbance”—and walked out with Leo holding my hand.
We walked to the truck in silence. I buckled him in.
“Am I in trouble, Dad?” Leo asked, looking at his knees. “I promise I won’t do it again.”
I started the engine and turned to him.
“Leo, look at me.”
He looked up, bracing for the lecture.
“You are not in trouble,” I said firmly. “You did the right thing. The school has its rules, and they must follow them to keep their jobs. But you have a heart, and you have to follow that to keep your soul.”
“But they threw the pizza away,” he said sadly.
“I know. Sometimes doing the right thing makes a mess. Do it anyway.”
We stopped at a pizza place on the way home. I bought two large pepperoni pies. One for us, and one for Leo to take to school on Monday, just in case.
As I watched him eat, getting sauce all over his face again, I realized something terrifying.
We spend eighteen years trying to program our kids to fit into the system, to sit still, to stay in line, to follow the handbook. We teach them that “compliance” is the same thing as “goodness.” But today, my seven-year-old showed me that sometimes, you must break the rules to keep the promise on the wall.
Civilization isn’t built on handbooks and liability waivers. It’s built on breaking your pizza in half when your friend is hungry.
If that’s a punishable offense, then I hope my son stays a criminal for the rest of his life.”
I found this on Facebook, and it was not accredited by any author. This is why we should never accept the authorities that claim something as they see it. Rules and manuals are just that. Kindness is a law of God. I think we all need to follow it. If this is your story, please advise me and I will reassign the copyright when you provide proof of authorship.
The only name you may recognize in this list is the Waltons. Earl Hamner, Jr. created this TV series that first aired in 1972. I graduated from high school in May of that year. The first episode of the Waltons aired on CBS television on September fourteenth of that year. You can say that my adult life began with this creation of Mr. Hamner.
This was not the first incarnation of this story by the author. “Spencer’s Mountain” was first published in 1961. He had begun his writing career as a script writer. His first short play that was produced was “The Hound of Heaven” that aired January 15, 1953, on The Kate Smith Show.
Spencer’s Mountain became a movie in 1963 starring Henry Fonda and Maureen O’Hara. The plots are similar. The characters are familiar from the Waltons series. This book was the story that John Boy wrote about his family. As writers, we are told to write what we know.
The character John Boy in the original book and movie was named Clay Boy after his father Clay Spenser, Sr. This makes me wonder if Earl Hamner, Jr., was called Earl Boy when he was growing up. He was the first one in a large family to go to college and become a writer.
Most of The Walton episodes were not written by Hamner. He was the Executive Producer and had final say on the scripts. While every story was not his he did make sure they were true to his concept of who his family was. As always, literary licenses were issued as needed.
Many of Hamner’s personal beliefs appear in these episodes. He was constantly exposing problems to those who were trying to take advantage of others. The Ballwin sisters, who were bootleggers, even though they did not know it, were not viewed as criminals. Blacks and orphans were seen as being oppressed.
Walton’s view of World War II was very much the way my mother remembered things as she was growing up at that time. Walton’s was a favorite of hers. She shared with me that many of the news reports of things that were occurring in Europe were viewed with doubt by her family as well.
Many of the story lines resonated with me. John Jr. wanted to be a writer and went to college to study. He was always writing a story or book. The season he purchased an old press and published his own newspaper was especially interesting to me.
The idea of living with grandparents was not that familiar and I was used to having two brothers and a sister at home. I sympathized with the Walton children when they wished they were only children. The different interests and occupations the family chose were as varied as my own. The main variation was that no one in my family became a musician or nurse.
My columns do follow a similar tack that John Boy followed by writing about the family and those things that happened to them. If you are like me and wish that the producers would come up with more family programming like this, at least with our current technology, we can watch these older shows on our streaming services. Happy watching, and I’ll share others that I have watched when they were new.
For those of you who have read my columns, you may know the answer to this question. Most of you do not. Doulos is the word in Greek that the apostle Paul uses in Romans 1:1 when he says, “Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ.” Some translations use the term slave.
I accepted the call to be a full-time minister of the gospel in March of 1974. That means I have been on that road for over fifty years. At first, I thought He wanted me to be a pastor. After two years at Southwest Baptist College, I earned a degree in religion and wanted God to show me what to do next. Cindy and I were married, and He did not want me to go to seminary, which is the normal path for a pastor.
I took a part-time job while still in school and later went full-time with that company. I preached when I could, taught small groups, and ultimately became a deacon in our church. Cindy and I have worked together in the cup of cold-water ministry at the Ozark Empire Fair under the Greene County Baptist Association, as well as in other ministries.
It took me a few years to understand that my calling was not to a pulpit at a church, but to business, and I realized I was a workplace minister. This is what many of you are. We are all ministers in some way. Teachers, businesspeople, and even students can be workplace ministers. When I wrote my memoir ten years ago, the title Jesus gave me was Doulos.
Douloi must serve others. They do this in their marriages, families, and work lives. Have you noticed that this website is Douloigroup.org? When I decided to purchase my own URL, I felt led to name it after my book. I have at least two other books in progress with a version of this word in their names.
Douloi Marriage and Douloi Families are my ideas of how the concept of Christian service in marriage and family life can be incorporated into our lives. I include these ideas in my columns as I know many of you have noticed over the years. These books have written themselves in my life as I just lived it in Christ.
What has Jesus asked you to incorporate into your life as service to him and others? I’ve spent years as a friend and listener to everyone I have worked with for over fifty years now. Both at the companies I worked for and those that I encountered on the job.
If you would like to read the entire story, I have included Doulos in my premium materials that you can read by subscribing for one month for a dollar or a year for ten. The other manuscripts I am working on are also posted there. This subscription will also add you to my e-mail list so I can advise you of any book releases or special offers.
Have you ever seen this TV series from 2007 to 2012? I am going to tell you something that has never been published anywhere before now. This story is about me. It has been altered greatly from my true original story. I did not go to Stanford University or work as a computer nerd.
I do not know Chris Fedak or Josh Schwartz who are the creators of this show. How they were able to link this fictional tale to my name is beyond me. I do not want any royalties or profit from their scripts. Titles cannot be copy written and I have no claim against anyone for infringing upon my privacy.
Why do I say this series was based on my life? First it is my name. Then there is the beautiful woman that I am married to. The character of Sarah Walker and Cindy do not have the same hair color. Cindy has never worked for the CIA and the way we met was completely different from what the series shows.
My best friend at the time ended up being my best man at our wedding and surprisingly, they got the part correct that we worked together. They also got it right that I have a sister. They did leave out my two brothers. Neither of my parents were spies and they were at our wedding as well.
They also got it correct that I did not finish at the university where I started my degree program. However, I was not expelled, I transferred and did receive my diploma from another college. I also never let my girlfriend drive my company car, so she never wrecked it. I played video games but not much after Cindy and I began dating. As I recall, neither did Chuck after he met Sarah.
That is another way that the writers hit my story head on. I know that if they tried to stay closer to my real life it would have been boring. I am just glad that they did not make it a situation comedy. The dramedy genre was a much more flattering format.
I can just see if they had titled it everybody loves Chuck or according to Chuck. All the crazy stuff my brothers and sister and I did would not have been half as interesting as the scripts for those two shows. I do wish that one of the characters in M.A.S.H., the Waltons, or Dr. Quinn Medicine woman had been Chuck or Cindy. In that case the show I claimed as ours would have lasted a lot longer.
Is there a show that you wish you could claim was about your life? Comment below and tell me the similarities and the differences in yours. If no one comments I will know that I am still a unique individual. Happy watching.
As a writer, this was my right arm when I was taking journalism in high school. I started journalism classes in my junior year. To be ready, I took typing in my sophomore year. I knew I had to be able to compose a story while at the machine.
If you are not aware of what this contraption is, let me explain. Before computers, word processors, and smartphones, people used typewriters to type messages, letters, or other documents. You put a sheet of paper, like copy paper, onto a roll and type on a QWERTY-style keyboard.
Is that something else you do not understand? Computer keypads typically feature the QWERTY layout, with the first letters on the top line. That is the same as a typewriter. Most cell phones have the same onscreen configuration for typing messages. There are many things that we had to do back then that are not needed now.
I did not double-space at the end of each sentence now. It has taken me years to learn not to do that anymore. Over thirty years of writing takes a while to change habits. Another practice that I have not suspended is the -30- at the end of each article. I still end each column or story with that designation. I’ll show you what I mean at the end of this page.
Another thing we did was hit the return twice after each paragraph. I am happy that I do not need to load the paper onto that roll. One more blessing is the elimination of an eraser or whiteout to make corrections. Have you never used correction fluid? It is liquid paper in a bottle with a tiny brush inside the cap to block out ink on the page.
It was an essential office supply for my first thirty years in business. I was one of the few, the proud, purchasing agents who typed their own purchase orders and letters. Secretaries knew how to do this for most of us men in business. That was what my wife did for years in different companies.
I enjoy the fact that I can change manuscripts in many ways before putting them on a page. One beautiful thing about computers and phones is the ability to edit. Apps give features to add graphics, edit text, and even create videos. You will notice that these stories have videos or images that add to what I have written. I love adding songs or clips to illustrate what my article is about.
Technology is great. I am fortunate to have been one of those to grow up without digital media. When these devices fail, we know how to use other systems as a backup. I can dial a phone, write on paper, or even walk into a warehouse to check stock. This was what I did fifty years ago. I have not forgotten how to do these things.
Progress is wonderful. Knowing how to do it the old-fashioned way may someday come in handy. Read any modern dystopian science fiction story, and you will see a world where the only ones who survive are those who can live without our modern comforts. Even knowing how to move an outhouse every few weeks might be a skill we need. What is an outhouse? That is another column, or ask your granddad.
I’ve been a writer for over sixty years. I do not remember ever having writer’s block. I developed a habit in grade school of writing what I wanted when I wanted to. Most of my teachers were just happy that I never asked what to write about. It was usually “write about something that happened to you or something that you are interested in.”
In junior high my teachers were more demanding. I had to write fiction or non-fiction, essays, or reports. Often, I would start more than one paper. If they wanted a particular piece but gave no restriction on the topic, I might write two or three different items. The day before it was due I had to choose which would be submitted.
More than one educator would suggest that we submit an additional paper for extra credit. I was always prepared for that. The fun thing about doing this was that often when a new assignment was given, I had at least one written that could be used.
In high school it became more difficult. Each paper had the maximum and minimum number of words required. Topics were more difficult to choose because the requirements were more restrictive. When I began taking journalism I continued to write multiples of each assignment.
News stories, editorials, features, and even sports articles seemed to come easily. My feature articles were the ones that were accepted most often. News items were not as well accepted. Sports was definitely not my bailiwick. When the staff for the paper senior year was announced, I was the page three feature editor.
Page one was the editor, page two the associate editor and of course page four was sports. Two photographers were chosen as well. Other jobs like yearbook staff were also filled. Our sponsor told us she made the decisions based on our strengths.
Senior year I wrote pieces that appeared on each page including page four. When we selected a theme for the feature page for each week everyone in all the classes were asked to write columns for each issue. Our teacher selected articles from the ones I gave to her. I submitted only one of mine to insert for each edition. We did not submit copy with bylines to prevent preferential treatment.
Each issue featured a bylined piece of mine on at least one page. Photographs from my camera also appeared in the paper and the yearbook. I had editorials that were requested on certain topics for specific issues. These were published with no acknowledgement of authorship.
My skills included interviews which were a mainstay of page three. If no one in the classes volunteered for these stories, they were handed to the feature editor. I spent a lot of time interviewing the principal and most of the staff. Today my favorite joke is to tell people that I was in the principal’s office at least three times a week. I just don’t tell them why I was there.
In my files I have close to a hundred ideas or partial columns. I have been gathering these for over ten years. Each piece I publish may be written completely within the last few days. Others are finished after they have sat in the files for as much as three years or more.
I hope that this has helped you with ways to avoid the dreaded writer’s block syndrome. I always tell young authors that the only way to learn how to write is to write. It always works for me. Tell me if I publish something that you think should have stayed in the file a while longer and gotten more polish.
I am one of the few people that I know who can honestly say that they have not broken a new year’s resolution for more than ten years. Over ten years ago I resolved to never make another resolution. I make goals each year. Not just one thing that I may not accomplish.
These goals are of varying types. Usually, I set several during a year. In 2009 I needed to get a new job when I was laid off in January. I found that job in March. In 2010 I set the same goal when I was terminated from that company. I celebrated that dismissal because the owner of the company was a tyrant.
That new job did not appear until 2012 when I dropped the first company from my resume’. That made me realize they had been spreading lies about me. Recently they had problems of their own and I can say that I hope they soon recover. Tough times for others are not a time to rejoice.
This year I have a few goals already in mind. Publishing my book “Doulos” on this site and using several E-book platforms as well. We’ll see how quickly that goes. I have five other projects that I hope to complete and present to you here this year. My problem is which will be next.
To do this, my reading goal on Goodreads has been adjusted down to one hundred. Writing and publishing will be my priority until I can reduce my backlog. These are personal accomplishments I will concentrate on. My wife and I are working on a book together. We hope to finish it before the year is out.
We also have several quilts that we would like to finish. They are what are lovingly referred to as UFOs (Unfinished Objects). Then there is the completion of the dining room and kitchen renovation we began between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Several DIY repairs will follow that one.
Each year we perform these tasks as we have money, time, and energy. This is nothing new for us. We have been here for a while and did not need to make changes until recently. We have replaced the water heater, HVAC system, refrigerator, and dishwasher. Things wear out and must be taken care of. There has been talk of a hot tub and possible long vacations. These are in the we want and planning stages.
I am sure that you have some things you would like to see started or completed in the next few months. Restore a classic car, write your first or next song, get married, have children, or buy a home. These are all worthy goals. Set your own and see where they lead.
One thing I think we should all strive for is a more positive attitude towards others. This could be as easy as taking yourself off the throne in your life and putting others on that pedestal. It may sound hard. Nothing worthwhile is easy. Give it a shot.
Have a great year and let’s get together this December and compare notes. I believe we will all be pleasantly surprised.
I sat in the campus union at my local university in the 1970s. A fellow student stops near me and asks about the book I am reading. The title is “Invisible Man.” She mentioned she had read the book, and we spent the next few minutes discussing the plot and what each of us found interesting about the book. The conversation lags and she walks away.
Over fifty years later I am reminded of this situation and begin to contemplate some things that I have not mentioned yet. First, the book I was reading was Ralph Ellison’s “Invisible Man” and the book we discussed was H. G. Wels’ book “The Invisible Man”. Ellison was a current black author who wrote a detailed account of growing up black in America. The young lady that stopped to talk to me was also African American and at the time I found it humorous that she did not know the book I was studying for a contemporary literature class.
The point that strikes me as unusual today is that this girl was very attractive, and I let her walk away without even considering acquiring her phone number. Was she flirting or just being friendly? If she was flirting, why did I not pick up on that and flirt back? Was it because I was raised that blacks and whites should not date or marry and it never occurred to me that she might be interested in me? Or could it be that I was just too shy to have the guts to ask for her number?
The question is, am I a bigot because I never thought to flirt with an attractive African American woman who was my contemporary, or was, I just raised to be polite unless the lady did more than just talk to me, I did not assume that she wanted or expected anything more?
I have thought about the possibility of whether I am prejudiced or not. I admit that I do have my prejudices. They are not based on race, culture, origin, or beliefs. I often judge people as being stupid. As Forest Gump’s mother said, “Stupid is as stupid does.”
Do we even know what that means? To me, stupidity is what we do. Ignorance is not having knowledge. Foolishness is lacking wisdom. Wisdom comes from God and age. Stupidity is a human characteristic. We all do things that can be referred to as stupid.
It may have been stupid for me to not take an opportunity to get to know that lady better. An invitation to the student union would have been appropriate. Continuing a conversation about science fiction could have been easy for me. I have read not only H. G. Wells but Jules Verne, Arthur C. Clark, and many other authors since that time. In another semester at that institution, I took a science fiction class. It was the first offered there and is standard now.
My problem was my inexperience with dating. I had only one girlfriend at that time. I dated her off and on for five years. Shortly after this encounter, she told me that we should not continue to date. I then began looking for girls to date. I never ran into that young lady again. I have wondered if another chance would have ended differently.
It was almost two years later before I met the woman who was to be my wife. I like to think that God brought her to me at the correct time. None of the others I dated were someone I could not live without. It has been said, “Marry the person you can’t live without, not just someone that you can live with. I did that.
A fun thing for a reader to do is pick up a favorite book and read it again. At Christmas there are many stories that come to mind. One of these for this Springfield boy brings the true meaning of Christmas home. This years’ experience has brought back some insights not thought of for many years, while reading “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens.
If you’ve never read the book and only seen the thousands of video versions of the story, it is well worth a read. Copies are available almost anywhere and you can even find free downloads for some devices and computers. It takes only an hour or two to read completely. Or you can listen to the audio book. Some families make reading a Christmas tradition.
The main character is Ebenezer Scrooge. We all know Mr. Scrooge in his many incarnations. Since his creation he has been copied, degraded, analyzed, and referred to as an old fart or worse. However, the main subject is the Bob Cratchit family. The most memorable line of the book is uttered by Cratchit’s son Tim, aka Tiny Tim, who says, “God bless us, everyone.” The illness that has crippled this boy is not identified. The Ghost of Christmases to Come shows Ebenezer a scene referring to the boy’s death. The lead character’s death is also mentioned, but no one mourns for him.
Dickens was endeavoring to illustrate the plight of the poor, downtrodden, ordinary Londoner. To illustrate what his culture lacked he chose a typical lower-income family. They worked but could not get ahead unless they were treated better than Scrooge treated them. The plight of the poor is not necessarily the fault of the wealthy. They can, however, improve others lot by being fair and honest.
Charity is not required to help the working poor. Decent wages and proper treatment by employers go a long way. As Bob Cratchit shows us, hard work can be rewarding, if your boss wants it to be. The moral is more that kindness as exhibited by Tiny Tim is rewarded, than that those who lack concern for others will die and be forgotten.
Human beings were created separately by God. We should demonstrate human kindness and not animal unconcern. Pets or even inanimate objects are shown more love than some people are shown. Even Mr. Scrooge was shown kindness by the spirits. His greed must be corrected not punished.
This was Dicken’s fourth Christmas story that he published. If you know the other three before this, you are a dedicated bibliophile. One was a short part of “The Pickwick Papers” his first novel that was published in 1837. Charles’ other Christmas stories that came after were “The Chimes” in 1844, “The Cricket on the Hearth” in 1845, “The Battle of Life” 1846. and “The Haunted Man and the Ghost’s Bargain” from 1848.
We have read many stories about Christmas over the years. I would like to hear about yours. Make a comment below and share them with us. For other authors please send me links to your stories or blogs about this and other holidays. I know Christmas is not the only holy day that is celebrated. I am always expanding my knowledge of cultures. As Saint Nick exclaimed in Clement Clark Moore’s poem, “Happy Christmas to all. And to all a good night.”
Charles (Chuck) Kensinger 