It’s the holiday season, a very holy time of year people observe by going shopping at the store of their choice.

Old-time Christians used to call it “Christmas” and went to church; the Jewish community called it “Hanukkah” and went to the synagogue, and the atheists called it a “reason to drink” and went to a bar.

City sidewalks were decorated [like the song says] in holiday style and passersby would wish each other a “Merry Christmas!” or “Happy Hanukkah!” 

These days, it’s politically correct to say, “Seasons Greetings.” This way you don’t offend anyone because it doesn’t refer to any particular religion. 

I say, “Bah humbug!”

Personally, I like the old-fashion way.

This year, we are going to celebrate Christmas sitting around our tree with an angel on top and the nativity scene underneath in a blanket of fake snow. 

We will exchange meaningful gifts like on “Little House on the Prairie.”

I’m sure Delightful Granddaughter will be happy with a corn husk doll, Handsome Son a hand-knitted scarf, Dear Daughter a pair of mittens and Hubby a hand-sewn shirt! 

No gift cards! No flat screen TVs! No video games! No expensive jewelry — ... well, unless the spirit moves Hubby to buy me something [but it probably won’t!].

Well, you get the picture.

 

Rumor has it that at only 4-foot,11-inches tall, staff writer Shelley Terry is actually one of Santa’s elves.

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