Do you call it St Stephen’s
Or is it Boxing Day
Or is just the time when shops
Virtually give Christmas wrapping paper away
A day of left-overs
A time to recoup
Or a time to hit the stores
In a big group
However you see it
Whether relaxing or a pain
364 days of Christmas shopping
Are all that remain
Padre
It is a day unlike the rest
The remembrance of the event blessed
When God and man did unite
In the form of a babe born in the night
Proclaimed by angels
And by shepherds viewed
The reconciliation process
Now renewed
Padre
This past weekend, the Toastmasters club I belong to had its Christmas party. It was held (as are our meetings) in a lovely old pub on the border between Suffolk and Norfolk. The set Christmas carvery was wonderful, as usual, and I being pescatarian had the veggie nut roast option. With that said, I found it hilarious to watch members of a club centred on communications skills try to play charades. Let’s put it this way, with members from the US, UK, the Philippines, and more, we faced a bit of a communications dilemma when we couldn’t use our words. Some was cultural. For instance before the games even started there was a need to clarify what was meant by a Christmas cracker, and a panto. But then the miming began for the charades. Our resident Disney enthusiast was able to decipher anything from that quarter, and another member was just a natural. The rest of us, however, definitely lost something in translation. Maybe we should build up our skill set and do an entire table topics in charades format (or not).
A big shout out to the Ram staff for a lovely meal, and a merry Christmas to all.
Padre
It might seem to many – a thing insane
That I attach such reverence to a name
That they might use day to day
As an utterance quite profane
It is the time though – of the year
When the name is on the radio
Broadcast for all to hear
Of mangers, and wise men, shepherds and more
The radio blasts them out – score after score
And at the end of this season all too brief
The name of Jesus will again come to grief
Why is it that their hearts are so base
That they don’t see the folly and the disgrace?
Padre
Now’s the season of cocoa and gingerbread
When goodwill is rumored to be spread
Do we take time to stop and take in
How is started and when did it begin?
For in the rush to be festive and bright
We don’t always remember that nativity night
So in your next sweet gingerbread moment
Take time recall that essential component
Padre
It wasn’t a normal day in Santa’s workshop
All the work had come to a full stop
It was all because of the strike
Brought by the E. L. F. the proceeding night
The Elven and Leprechaun Federation had had enough
Of labouring for just cocoa and other sweet stuff
They wanted and demanded better conditions too
Like paid vacation for a week or two
That Nick is a shrewd negotiator
For he gave them phased concessions
Starting a date next year and others even later
Padre
It is that time of year again
When my neighbour – alien planets greets
With illuminations so intense
That it brightens up several streets
While his expression of seasonal joy
Is plain for all to see
I would really prefer to able to sleep
As it approaches half past three
Padre
Today’s the day that all the Yanks
Eat turkey, and pie, and profess their thanks
Parades and football give them something to do
As leftovers are prepared
To be repeated for a day or two
And if all that is not enough for them
In a month and a day – they’ll do it all again
Padre
It is the witching time of year
When my neighbour with chainsaw grins ear to ear
He says he does it for the kids to have a laugh
As he jumps from behind bushes onto the path
The saw he revs as the children scream
It happens every Halloween
Padre
It is Easter-time again
With chocolate bunnies and marshmallow hens
But forgotten by many and remembered by few
Is the greatest miracle – God did do
For with the sacrifice of His Son
And following resurrection eternal life was won
For the grave – it could not hold
The King of Life – risen – as it was foretold
Padre
Padre's Ramblings 