MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

Christmas time means different things to different people.  When I was going through a difficult time, I wrote the following poem to explore what Christmas meant to me, trying to meld my knowledge of life after death, spirituality and Christianity.  It was read on the air at CKWX by Roy Jacques in 1985, and he said it lit up the switchboard.  Then in 1986 it was published by The Aldergrove Star.

I wish everyone the very best at this time of year, whatever your beliefs may be!

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS 

In times gone past the King proclaimed

“In charge of hearts

J.C. is named!”

“In charge of hearts?” asked poor J.C.

“What does my King

Expect of me?”

As poor J.C. was just a ghost

Did he deserve

This honoured post

The King then took J.C. aside

And said to him

“You cannot hide

The planet Earth has need of Thee

Since how to love

They do not see

They fight, they hate, they rob and kill

The planet Earth

Needs more love still

Your heart is big enough, my Son

I know your heart

Won’t let you run

Go forth, J.C., and teach of love

That it’s the law

From up above

I’ll give you angels and all men

Go forth and teach of love

My Friend”

But just a ghost, J.C. knew not

How he could help

A world distraught

A ghost you know, can only be

A feeling that

No one can see

Or thoughts that people won’t believe

Would planet Earth

This ghost receive?

J.C. went forth to do his best

It would take years

To pass this test

In little places here and there

J.C. found hearts

That sought to care

But just a few J.C. had found

Though he had searched

The world around

He tried to touch all hearts with love

They’d love a bit

Then push and shove

He tried to teach the world with thought

They’d think

But still went forth and fought

This planet Earth he loved for years

But no one listened

Through their tears

With sadness in his heart one day

He told his King

There was no way

That he could teach the world to love

“They can’t see ghosts

From up above

They don’t believe the things I say

There has to be

A better way”

The King agreed, perhaps this chore

Was more than he

Had thought before

There had to be a better plan

For teaching love

To Earthbound man

“We’ll have to call the Council soon

We’ll meet with them

Full moon in June

There’s one in charge of how to teach

And many minds

Knows how to reach

There’s one in charge of church and prayer

He can inspire

Some to care

There’s one in charge of Kingdoms, too

He’ll know which Kings

Will trust in you

There’s one in charge of words to write

He’ll know which words

For Earth are right

Because I gave you hearts, J.C.

You need not work alone

You see?”

And so it was the Council came

Together

All these ghosts just came

They thought, they talked, they made a plan

To show the Earth

A loving man

So all mankind could understand

That through the Cosmos

That’s the Plan

A ghost would go to Earth, you see

(Of course you know,

They picked J.C.)

And live inside a body, too

That could be seen

By me and you

Then he would live this thing called love

That guides

The Universe above

And he’d be killed by man’s own hand

So all mankind

Could understand

When he arose and was not dead

That ghosts are people

Not to dread

For life is always evermore

If man could see

He’d cry no more

That was the Plan the Council made

That was the part

That J.C. played

Now once a year humanity

Attempts to love

As did J.C.

The ghost of Christmas is J.C.

And Jesus Christ

Still lives for Thee.

_______________________

By Lisa A. Hatton

A LITTLE CHRISTMAS ROMANCE

The following story was written in response to a prompt that was pulled from a jar in the early days of The Ram’s Head Writers’ Group.  The original document is dated 2003.  It is one of the stories included in my collection called “Love Found”, published as an ebook on Kobo.

CHARDONNAY, YOGURT AND JOHN DEERE

            Tammy wandered from the kitchen toward the living room with her coffee mug in hand and spotted a white envelope on the floor by the front door.  Someone had pushed it through the mail slot since she had retired the night before.  Picking it up and turning it over, she saw it was addressed “To Chardonnay and Yogurt”.  She smiled, realizing it was meant for herself and her five year old son, Donovan.

            Opening the envelope, she read the loving sentiment on the front of the Christmas card and then opened it up.  Inside were five crisp hundred-dollar bills.  The card was simply signed “John Deere”.  Tammy had no idea who had delivered the card.  This was the third year in a row she had received one.  Each time there were five hundred-dollar bills inside.  Each time it arrived the week before Christmas.  Each time it was signed by someone calling himself “John Deere”.  There was no postmark on the card, so she knew it was hand delivered.  But of course, there was no return address on it, either.  She had no idea who was being so kind and generous.

            Tammy folded the hundred-dollar bills and put them in the pocket of her jeans.  Then she took the card and placed it in lone display on the mantel over her fireplace.  It would probably be the only card they received.  She and Donny had come to this town with Donny’s father four years ago, when he had found work here.  The job didn’t last any longer than the three previous ones had.  And this time the relationship didn’t last either.  Donny’s father had left them just before Christmas three years ago.  He had taken his truck, his clothes and the wide screen T.V., leaving them with no transportation, no money, and the unpaid bill for the television.

            She had been devastated, two weeks before Christmas and alone with her son in a town that wasn’t home and where she knew no one.  But a kind neighbor had seen the T.V. departing with the suitcase in the truck and had come over that night to ask if they were all right.  He was the older man who owned the house across the street.  His name was Jack Davies, and he lived alone. 

He had told her about a temporary job opening for the holiday season at a grocery store in town, and about his daughter who babysat toddlers still in diapers.  So in spite of the bill for the television, life without Donny’s father turned out better than anticipated.  That was the first Christmas the card had arrived addressed to “Chardonnay and Yogurt”.  The money had been a godsend and she and Donny had survived.  The job turned out to be permanent, and because she was a single Mom, the store gave her day shifts during the week so she could put Donny in daycare while she worked.

            Jack had become a good friend, always willing to help Tammy settle into a new town.  He told her where she could find a family doctor, and where the swimming pool was located.  And he always made time for Donny’s questions and Donny wanting to play.  She had learned he was forty-two, a widower for eight years.  He was only twelve years older than Tammy, not so much older after all.  She had told Jack about the Christmas cards and asked if he knew who would do such a thing, but he had said he didn’t know, that she should just enjoy the windfall.  Maybe, she thought, the cards were meant for a previous tenant who had moved without leaving a forwarding address. 

            Life for Tammy and Donny slowly turned into a reliable routine they both counted on.  Donny thrived in daycare with other children.  Tammy enjoyed her job, meeting many people during the day.  And life at home for the two of them was bearable.  They didn’t have a lot, but they weren’t starving.  She could afford the rent and utilities on the small house they now called home, even after paying for her divorce.  The landlord had supplied a lawn mower so during the summer they were able to enjoy the big back yard and she and Donny could kick a soccer ball around.  And this past summer, she had saved enough money to buy a small used car.  It was a great time-saver in getting to work and back, and made bringing home the bacon much easier.  She parked her little red hatchback in the driveway at the side of the house.

            It was Saturday, and Tammy thought she would go Christmas shopping today, now that she had some extra money.  She would buy a small frozen turkey for Christmas dinner, and a bottle of Chardonnay for her, and some of Donny’s favorite frozen yogurt.  She smiled to herself, realizing she could afford to buy Donny his first two-wheeler this year, to put under the tree.  Putting down her coffee mug, she went to open the living room drapes as she heard her son stirring in the back bedroom.  She pulled the cord and then stood transfixed at the wintry scene outside.  The road and lawns and trees were covered in a blanket of snow, and the white flakes were still coming down.  Thick, wet and puffy flakes, typical of a west-coast winter, had quietly brought the outside world to a stop.  There wasn’t yet even a single tire track down the road or a footstep on the sidewalk.

            “Wow!  Mom, can I go outside to play in the snow?” Donny asked excitedly as he came and stood on the sofa in front of the window, looking in reverence at the winter wonderland outside just waiting for his tracks of exploration.

            “Breakfast first though,” she countered as she headed for the kitchen.  She would have to clean off her car and do some shoveling herself if she wanted to go shopping later.  The main roads would be cleared, if she could get to one.  Now she wished she hadn’t parked her car so far into the driveway. 

            Dressed in winter clothing, she and Donny trekked through the snow on the front lawn, laughing and throwing snowballs at each other.  Then while he put his energies into building a snowman, she cleaned off her car and started shoveling the driveway.  Puffing after clearing five feet of a thirty-foot stretch, she stood and leaned on the rake to catch her breath.  Looking across the street, she saw Jack walking towards her, dressed in a parka and a baseball cap, with thick work gloves on his hands.

            “Hey, Tammy, hold on there.  You don’t have to shovel your driveway.”

            “What do you mean?  I can’t afford to hire someone, and Donny isn’t big enough

 yet for that chore.”

            “Actually, my girl, nobody has to shovel.  My lawn tractor in the garage also has a snowplow.  I’ll clean off my driveway and then come over and do yours.  It’ll only cost you a hot chocolate when I’m finished.  Do we agree on the price?” he asked, smiling down at her.

            “Of course,” she smiled back.  “Ice cream or marshmallows on top?” she asked, looking up.  That’s when she noticed the logo on his hat.  “You have a John Deere hat?” she questioned.

            “They gave me the hat when I bought the tractor three years ago.  And I’ll have

marshmallows, of course,” he said, winking as he turned and headed toward his garage.

            Later, while Tammy warmed some milk to make hot chocolate for three, she used a blank sheet of fancy notepaper and wrote out an invitation that read:

            Deere John,

You are warmly invited to join us for an early dinner at 4:00 p.m. on December

 25^th, at our home.  We do hope you can join us.

            Sincerely,

            Chardonnay and Yogurt

___________________________

By Lisa A. Hatton