Today's Small Town soapbox was a track from Moby's Done Gone Plumb Platnium CD which can be found at the Moby Store.

Dear Moby, Our local radio station just recently started carrying your program. I must admit at first I did not know what to think about it all, then as I listened for a while, I guess I got used to the show and have came to enjoy it. My question or comment is I listen to your stories but they all seem to be on the sad side of everything. Have you ever told just an out and out happy one, one that doen’t bring a tear to your eyes? Sincerely, C. Grider Poplar Bluff, fortydodger@yahoo,com
Well, welcome to our radio family Forty Dodger,
Oh yeah, I guess I could slip in a happy story from time to time. Thinking back on it, I'm pretty sure there was quite a bit of happy stuff this morning,
and I believe we've got some happy stuff lined up for tomorrow.
I do like pushing those emotional buttons though.
When a day passes without a tear forming in my eye, I just don't feel the day has been totally complete. I want to feel it all. Don't you?
I'd like to think that if you listened beginning to end (which granted most folks don't have time to do) that you'd find something that would touch just about every emotional button you carry around with you.
We cut up a lot, and laugh and act a fool.
We love each other and say so.
We get upset with each other and say so.
We know what we believe, and we say so.
Depending on the day, we've won and lost, and we share it, and enjoy having it shared with us.
I'm very proud of my stance for fear of God, love of country & family, & respect for authority. That's a battle we can not lose.
I'm a constitutional Christian conservative that thinks we've drifted far from what our founders had in mind when they formed and bequeathed us this wonderful republic.
I'm comfortable in the company of those I don't agree with, but I'll never change my way of thinking, or remain silent because mine isn't the most popular opinion..
I love to laugh and cry. I love to touch emotions of all types, and have my emotions touched.
I'm very happy that you've come to enjoy our show.
My hopes and prayers would be that as you grow more familiar with me and this show that's invaded your beautiful corner of the world, that you'll grow more and more comfortable with it, and that
we'll hear from you more and more.
I promise that you'll always be on friendly turf when you reach out & as you become proud to be a cousin in the Moby in the Morning radio family.
That said, if you want to call and fuss, then we'll fuss a little, too.
May God bless you & yours, and may He give you a very Merry Christmas,
Yeah baby, MOBY

Today's soapbox was a Track from Moby's Going For The Gold available at The Moby Store.

Moby, I just wanted to take a minute to let you know of something I saw that was so heartwarming to me that I knew I had to share it. I was at Walmart on Lexington Rd in Athens on Sunday afternoon and I saw a Marine standing just inside the store next to a Toys for Tots drop off. I watched as many people walked past him not even giving so much as a smile, then it happened, a little toddler walked over to him and waved and smiled and the Marine looked down at him, smiled, and reached his hand out to shake the toddler’s hand. It was very heartwarming. These men and women risk their lives to protect ours, the least we could do during this time of need is shake their hands and give them a simple, “Thank You!”
-Mandy Bouknight

Good afternoon Mandy,
I agree with you that expressing gratitude to those in military service is the very least we should do, but let me ask you this.
Did you also see anyone drop a toy in the Marine’s box? Did you donate a toy?
The “respect & gratitude” the deserve from us is to recognizeand appreciate their mission, and if able, assist in the completion of that mission.
Handshakes and children are certainly sweet, and a uniformed patriot from any branch of the United State Military will gladly shake any patriotic hand offered regardless of their age, and be genuinely grateful for the support.
But Mandy, it wasn’t his mission that day.
Toys For Tots donations are down 80% this year, and handshakes do not put presents under the trees of children who otherwise will have no toy under there.
Again, how many citizens did you witness assisting the young man in his mission?
Not very often is a Marine’s assignment something that civilians can help them in, but in this situation, the mission does not get accomplished without the help of the civilians that could have really helped that Marine that day.
The Parents of the child whose hand was shaken, did they contribute a toy? Shame on those that could & should have helped, but didn’t.
I’m sorry to not have taken this in the spirit you had in mind when you wrote it.
Believe me, I do see the “Norman Rockwell” moment this scene no doubt was.
It’s just that I’ve just stood by many of those boxes, and seen many of those marine hands shaken with no contribution to the cause they’re there for, and it makes me very sad.
May god bless you & your family, and grant you the merriest of Christmases. I wish you health, happiness, and prosperity in 2010.
MOBY

Sadie called the studio

And in a voice both soft and low

said, “You once painted the man I love

It was a long time ago.”



… said “I saw you in the paper

and I see you’re doing well”

Then she shared a story,

that only she could tell.



She said…

“He came and sat, as I think back

It was nineteen seventy three

We all laughed and talked, while you worked in chalk

I know he did it just for me.



You had me stand behind you

To make him turn his head

Cause each time you’d say “please look this way”

He was looking at me instead. “



Then her voice trembled just a bit

She almost whispered in the phone

That the man she loved now was gone

and she was all alone

But today she wanted to get in touch,

just to let me know….





How much she loved him, and how she held him in her heart

How that painting had kept him close to her, on the days they were apart

She told me it meant so much more than the sum of all it’s parts

Lines and shapes and colors….bits of lights and darks.





She said they made her give up nearly everything,

that she ever owned

To come and spend her final days

In this sad old nursing home



And then she told me one thing more,

and I nearly broke down and wept

She said that painting that I did for her,

was the only thing she kept.



Her life is much more simple now

But that’s okay she said

There’s just one painting on her wall

It hangs at the foot of her bed



CHORUS:

Because she loved him, and she held him in her heart

And that little painting, made them not seem so far apart

She can’t forget him, and there’s not a day goes by

That that painting didn’t bring a little joy into her life.





She said, “I’m not moving much these days,

but on those days I do

I swear I see his lovin’ eyes,

follow me around this room!



I always loved the way he smiled,

and you sure caught it right

He smiles at me each morning,

and the last thing every night.”







Now I’ve made bigger paintings, of people with more fame

They hang in public places, you may even know their names

And I”ve been paid and I’ve been thanked, but no one touched me more

Or put into perspective, just what we do this for.



No it may never hang, on any museum wall

It may never, ever be seen, by too many people at all

But if it only served to sooth, one sad and lonely heart

That would be, good enough for me, cause my painting, did it’s part.



I know I always did my very best, ….and I’m proud of them all

But nothing felt so good to me, as when…. Sadie made that call

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered. He was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed this warning : "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it." The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray.. Be assured you are in my prayers." The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose." So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap . . . Alone.. . . That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- the sound Of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it. It was a venomous snake whose tail was caught in the trap. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital. When she returned home she still had a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup. So the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient: But his wife's sickness continued. Friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig. But, alas, the farmer's wife did not get well... She died. So many people came for her funeral that the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them for the funeral luncheon. And the mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness. So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and you think it doesn't concern you, remember ---When one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.
- REMEMBER -
EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON'S TAPESTRY. OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.

We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I'd like better.
I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I really would. I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated.
I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car. And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen. It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep. I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in. I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother/sister. And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him. When you want to see a movie and your little brother/sister wants to tag along, I hope you'll let him/her.
I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as your Mom.
If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one. I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.
When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.
I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a boy\girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what ivory soap tastes like.
I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it.. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend . I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your Grandma/Grandpa and go fishing with them.
May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.

I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.
These things I wish for you - tough times and disappointment, hard work and happiness. To me, it's the only way to appreciate life.

Written with a pen. Sealed with a kiss. And if I die before you do, I'll go to heaven and wait for you.

Last Thursday Night Around Midnight, A Woman From Houston , Texas Was Arrested, Jailed, And Charged With Manslaughter
For Shooting A Man 6 Times In The Back As He Was Running Away With Her Purse.
The Following Monday Morning, The Woman Was Called In Front Of The Arraignment Judge, Sworn In, And Asked To Explain Her Actions.
The Woman Replied, "I Was Standing At The Corner Bus Stop
For About 15 Minutes, Waiting For The Bus To Take Me Home After Work. I Am A Waitress At A Local Cafe...
I Was There Alone, So I Had My Right Hand On My Pistol,
That Was In My Purse, That Was Hung Over My Left Shoulder.
All Of A Sudden I Was Being Spun Around Hard To My Left.
As I Caught My Balance, I Saw A Man Running Away From Me With My Purse.
I Looked Down At My Right Hand And I Saw That My Fingers Were Wrapped Tightly Around My Pistol.
The Next Thing I Remember Is Saying Out Loud, "No Way Punk! Your Not Stealing My Pay Check And Tips."
I Raised My Right Hand, Pointed My Pistol At The Man Running Away From Me With My Purse, And Squeezed The Trigger Of My Pistol 6 Times!
When Asked By The Arraignment Judge, "Why Did You Shoot The Man 6 Times?
The Woman Replied Under Oath, "Because, When I Pulled The Trigger The 7th Time, It Only Went Click."
The Woman Was Acquitted Of All Charges. And She Was Back At Work, At The Cafe, The Next Day!
Now that's Gun Control.... Democracy is two wolves and a sheep voting on what's for dinner. Freedom is a well armed sheep contesting the vote."- Benjamin Franklin

Recently I overheard a Father and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure.
Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the Father said, 'I love you, and I wish you enough.'
The daughter replied, 'Dad, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Dad.'
They kissed and the daughter left. The Father walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, 'Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?'
'Yes, I have,' I replied. 'Forgive me for asking, but why is this forever good-bye?'
'I am old, and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral,' he said.
'When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?'
He began to smile. 'That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.' He paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail, and he smiled even more. 'When we said, 'I wish you enough,' we wanted the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.' Then turning toward me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.
I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.
He then began to cry and walked away.
Take Time to Live
To all my friends and loved ones, I wish you Enough!

A store that sells new husbands opened last week in New York City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!
So, a woman goes to find a husband. On the first floor the sign on the door reads:
Floor 1- These Men Have Jobs
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:
Floor 2- These Men Have Jobs and Love Kids
“That’s nice,” she thinks, “but I want more.”
So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:
Floor 3: These Men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and Are Extremely Good Looking.
“Wow, “ She thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 4- These Men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help With Housework.
“Oh. Mercy me!” She exclaims, “I can hardly stand it!”
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 5- These Men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking, Help With Housework. And Have A Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor, where the sign reads:
Floor 6- You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please… Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
PLEASE NOTE:
To avoid gender bias charges, the store’s owner opened a New Wives store just across the street.
The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money and like beer.
The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth floors have never been visited.

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear..
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold..
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother...
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.."

" So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.."

I envy Kevin. My brother, Kevin, thinks God lives under his bed. At least that's what I heard him say one night.
He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, 'Are you there, God?' he said.. 'Where are you?
Oh, I see. Under the bed...'
I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin's unique
perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in.
He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are few ways in which he is an adult.
He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will. He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them... I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?
Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, return to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed.
The only variation in the entire scheme is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child. He does not seem dissatisfied.
He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05 , eager for a day of simple work.
He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores.
And Saturdays - oh, the bliss of Saturdays! That's the day my Dad take Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside..
'That one's goin' to Chi-car-go! ' Kevin shouts as he claps his hands.
His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights.
And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips.
He doesn't know what it means to be discontent. His life is simple.
He will never know the entanglements of wealth of power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats.
His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be. His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working.. When he unloads the dihwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it. He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job
until it is finished. But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax.
He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others. His heart is pure. He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.
Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances. Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God. Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child. Kevin seems to know God – to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an 'educated' person to grasp. God seems
like his closest companion.
In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith.
It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.
It is then I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap. I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care.
Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence,
praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of
God.
And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed
that God lived under his bed.
Kevin won't be surprised at all!

Last week, I took my children to a restaurant.
My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace.
As we bowed our heads he said, 'God is good, God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!'
Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, 'That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray.. Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!' Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, 'Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?'
As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job, and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, 'I happen to know that God thought that was a
great prayer.'
'Really?' my son asked.
'Cross my heart,' the man replied.
Then, in a theatrical whisper, he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), 'Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes.'
Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment, and then did something I will remember the rest of my life.
He picked up his sundae and, without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, 'Here, this is for
you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes; and my soul is good
already.'
The End
I love this story!
I hope God sends you some Ice Cream today!

Hi Moby, Been Listening to you since early 90's !! My story is about a friend in Buckhead. His name is Sam. Sam has bird feeders in his yard and had hard time keeping squirrels out. So one morning he got out his 410 ga. shotgun and killed 2 of the pesky squirrels. They hadn't had time to get cold and the police showed up! Arrested him took him downtown and booked him put him in a holding cell with the other "criminals". Sam didn't make eye contac with nobody cuz he was scared!!! Finally a big guy said "hey boy what you in here for? Sam TRIED to put on his meanest base voice "tenor" at best and he said double murder. They were in awe at this little fellow.
"Well who you killed"?
Sam paused and finally looked up and said 2 squirrels!!!
The "criminals" horsed laughed him. There is more but no body can tell it the way Sam can. Anyhow you could have been like my friend Sam had you shot the deer in your back yard..
Love your morning show and if we don't meet this side of the pearly gates, when we get to the other side, after priorities, I'll look you up and I know we can share deer stories.

Yea Baby
Frank

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season.
I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santa's and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see one. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here ya go:
Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.
Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.
Instead of writing the President complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up... It will be nice hearing from you again.
Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.
Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive them.
Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one.
Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but they’ll not have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.
Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.
Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. I LOVE YOU, JESUS

One Sunday morning an old biker entered a church just before services were to begin.
Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt and boots that were very worn and ragged. In his hand he carried a worn out old leather jacket and an equally worn out bible.
The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old biker had ever seen.
The people of the congregation were all dressed with expensive clothes and accessories. As the biker took a seat, the others moved away from him. No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled at his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.
The preacher gave a long sermon about Hellfire and brimstone and a stern lecture on how much money the church needed to do God's work. As the old biker was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the biker to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what He thinks would be appropriate attire for worship."
The old biker assured the preacher he would.
The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and leather jacket.
Once again he was completely shunned and ignored.
The preacher approached the man and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back t o our church."
"I did," replied the old biker. "
"If you spoke to God, what did he tell you the proper attire should be for worshiping in here?" asked the preacher.
"Well, sir, God told me that He didn't have a clue what I should wear. He says He's never been here before.

I Just Want To Thank You Lord Dear Lord, I look at all the earthly wonders that I see, And know the greatest wonder is that You have chosen me, And loved me with a love so strong, mere words cannot express The depth of Your great majesty, and awesome holiness. The beauties of this earth are many flowers, and grass, and trees; And looking at their matchless splendor brings me to my knees, In gratitude and thankfulness for blessings that are mine, And for the table You’ve prepared for me to come and dine. You've given me a home on earth where I stay warm and dry, But tell me You’re preparing me a mansion in the sky. And when I stop to wash the sweat from toil throughout the day, I praise You for the precious blood that washed my sins away. And even when the storm clouds threaten to destroy my peace, I know that You can calm the waves, and make the billows cease. So I just want to thank you, Lord, for all that You have done, But most of all, I thank You for salvation through Your Son.