How ever we spend Christmas , lets never forget what its all about .
In the village where I lived Christmas was a community celebration in one way or another .
Santa Clause was in town and if you wanted to you could even get a photo taken with him . After the photo he would hand you a gift that you would take home and put under the Christmas tree .
On Christmas Eve night you could feel the excitement bursting out of your veins . The final thing to be done was a walk up to the Holy Cross church with my family for midnight mass . The snow usually lay thick on the ground and I was entranced with each house in every street as I looked at their brightly lit Christmas tree on display in the front window . Every tree was different . Some houses had flashing lights others had these large fantastic lanterns hanging from the tree branches . Christmas was a kind of wonderland for me as a child .
Then there was Christmas Mass and the large choir up in the loft , who would sing all the Christmas carols I knew and loved . Father Marcellus always played the pipe organ there that seemed to lift the roof off the church and echo all around the village .
As I grew up times changed as did the way of life and even how Christmas was celebrated . I began to see a change in things .
As a child I saw things as a child but as a man I saw life in a different perspective .
During the year most people worked hard in their jobs . Some had two jobs and also worked weekends . In the hard times people had to work long hours for little money . There was no reward for doing the right thing and often people began to do the wrong thing without ever stoping to think what they were doing . People had adapted only one thought of Christmas Celebrations now in this modern life .
When Christmas holidays came the pubs were packed and the churches were empty . Around the town people walked to their favourite waterhole or drinking den . It was party time every night and you would often hear the crowds on the streets , singing and screaming until the early morning hours .
Our local waterhole was affectionately known as the Molly . Every night the crowds poured in for a good time . There were sing alongs , darts , snooker , music and dancing until the doors closed around midnight .
Just before closing time you’d see Barney bring his mobile van down through the village streets and park it opposite the Molly and wait for the patrons to spill out .
With a belly full of brew , there was nothing to do , but to wait in the queue for a curried chip . They all loved their curried chips and every night the queue was a half a mile long . Everybody in the queue were happy . It was like a party every night . Everyone shared a few stories and jokes and they were happy days indeed .
In the van Barney was kept busy cooking chips and making up the curry .
After downing a few curried chips it brought on a desperate thirst again which prompted people to return to their homes for a few more drinks .
Sleep never came until the morning light for most and then nothing would be seen or heard in the village until late afternoon when everyone would get ready for another night at Mollys .
This was the new accepted way of life at Christmas now . There were not many brightly lit trees in the front windows of homes and no one seemed to walk up to midnight mass anymore .
Barney however was a happy man .
He often decorated his mobile wan with a lights and played Christmas Carols through the built in P.A. in his van . He even dressed up in a Santa suit for the occasion .
Sometimes I think , even though life changes I don’t have to .
To be honest I don’t like curried chips and you would never see me in a queue at midnight on Christmas Eve .
I still like to look at Christmas lights and go to mass and remember what its all about .
After a long awaited weekend visitation caused by false allegations of sexual abuse, Glen got to see his children for the first time in over two months. He promised them that they would never be apart again and then they disappeared.
At the young of age of seven, Jill's mother Eve takes her for regular sessions to a child psychologist for treatment of her anxiety, which only makes her behavior worse. When she reaches her teens, she starts drinking and then smoking marijuana with
Sepsis knocked her down and out. Faith, hope, and gave her the strength to get back on her feet. I am a Runner She fought the river of death They said she'd never run again
She proved them wrong...
