[sgt stutter]

Sober Santa

http://www.banditos.info/speles/sobersanta2.swf
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click--><eVa>SuperGreg

R.I.P Trigger Happy

[Lt. Black]

Bah humbug, I say.

*whistles the grinch song*
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[Secret Agent Man]

4 years and counting! merry christmas all and happy new year! AND IM OUT!!!
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if you think thats a soldier behind you? think
agian, or my knife will be in your back.


aa, oshiete sensei-san

[Ricen]

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a
kid.
I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my
big
sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even
dummies know that!"
My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her
that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma
always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a
whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous"
cinnamon
buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so.
It had to be true.
Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I
told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" She
snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going
around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your
coat, and let's go."
Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my
second world-famous cinnamon bun.
Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in
town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked
through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.
That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said,
and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the
car. "Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.
I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my
mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself.
The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to
finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood
there,confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and
who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my
friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to
my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that.
"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.
That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas
paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes.
That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus
were just what Grandma said they were - ridiculous. Santa was alive
and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat
tag tucked inside it of $19.95. May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!
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"It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died.
Rather we should thank God that such men lived."
- General George S. Patton, Jr

[WiseOldJames{ATL}]

aahh... Christmas in Kuwait....fun