I'm off to the state convention. As always there wil be some things worth sitting through and some a waste of time. Now if there was just some way to determine that, before you commit 2 hours of your youth to it, then you'd have a deal. I've tried putting the pictures of Ralph(s) from the camera to the new computer and somehow, the new computer doesn't 'recognize' the USB port. I tried introducing them nicely. I'm planning a new attack when I return. A hammer perhaps. For this post I am swiping words from a midwestern magazine.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008 4:33 PM CST
By Cliff Morrow
The Midwest Producer
I've been to the big city Christmas shopping in the past. I've also done a lot of Santa work in years gone by. I have stopped helping Santa. Both of those activities - shopping and Santa gigs - have brought me joy, laughter, a desire to reach out and help, and sometimes to give someone a pat on the back. They have also caused me concern, sadness and, in a couple of cases, a desire to slap the face of a few parents. And I've even had occasion to shed a few tears.
As Santa, I've had to tell Mothers that their screaming child, the one over there with terror on her little face "doesn't want to sit on Santa's lap, maybe next year, or maybe you could talk to me from across the room where the child might feel safe." And to others I've wanted to say "why don't you put that cigarette out and spend what little money you have on food and clothes, or soap, and if you don't quit yelling at those kids, Santa's going to step on your toe with his big black boot."I've had to ask Santa's helper to find out who those people are, and their address, to see if we could round up some help for them.
I've had little eight year olds who were showing signs of really needing some parenting (soap, food, clothes, toothbrush…) ask Santa not to "bring me anything but could you please bring my little brother and sister some nice clothes to wear." While shopping, I've observed couples staring at each other with pure HATE for each other in their eyes. I've recently watched as parents threatened their kids by yelling at them in front of 50 strangers. We've never even yelled at cattle like that.
Easy folks, take a deep breath, it's Christmas. Find someone to listen to, to help, to counsel, to love, to share the real story of Christmas. You know, the one with Jesus in it. Find someone to sit and be quiet with, or someone to mourn with. There are many people in each of our lives with pains and sorrow. To help someone else a little will mean so much, and the rewards for you will be many. And lastly, if you know someone who helps play Santa in one of our small towns across Kansas and Nebraska, thank them. Everything they heard and saw wasn't always easy to deal with.