Need an inspirational thought...something to get you through the hustle and bustle of the holiday season?  Well, you've come to the right place.  Check here regularly for inspirational thoughts about Christmas. (POSTED DAILY...WELL...ALMOST)
2004
 

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

December 1 Ashley Bragg & Deja Shirley

December 3

Ryan Humble & Thomas Shields
December 4 Ashley Lehney
December 5 Tiffany (Parker) De Vivo
December 8 Brittanay Baker
December 9 Amy Bragg
December 11 Tara Turner
December 12 Adam Wood
December 13 Andrea Moon
December 15 Andrew Logan
December 16 Elgin Gregg
December 23 Allison Post
December 28 Bonnie Schultz & Jeff Stewart
December 31 Tyler Lacy

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(Sunday, December 12)

God's love is what drives
Him to seek us even when we hide,
to give us rain and life and
refreshment even when we run,
to extend to us a hand as we struggle
in the mire even when we doubt.
God's love is so great that
He won't give up on us
even when we've given up on Him.

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(Friday, December 10)
This is Christmas:  not the tinsel, not the giving and receiving, not even the carols, but the humble heart that receives anew that wondrous gift, the Christ.
--Frank McKibben
printed in 3001 Things We Love About Christmas

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(Tuesday, December 7)
Working Christmas Day
By Victoria Schlintz

It was an unusually quiet day in the emergency room on December twenty-fifth. Quiet, that is, except for the nurses who were standing around the nurses' station grumbling about having to work Christmas Day.

I was triage nurse that day and had just been out to the waiting room to clean up. Since there were no patients waiting to be seen at the time, I came back to the nurses' station for a cup of hot cider from the crockpot someone had brought in for Christmas. Just then an admitting clerk came back and told me I had five patients waiting to be evaluated.

I whined, "Five, how did I get five? I was just out there and no one was in the waiting room."

"Well, there are five signed in." So I went straight out and called the first name. Five bodies showed up at my triage desk, a pale petite woman and four small children in somewhat rumpled clothing.

"Are you all sick?" I asked suspiciously.

"Yes," she said weakly, and lowered her head.

"Okay," I replied, unconvinced, "who's first?" One by one they sat down, and I asked the usual preliminary questions. When it came to descriptions of their presenting problems, things got a little vague.  Two of the children had headaches, but the headaches weren't accompanied by the normal body language of holding the head or trying to keep it still or squinting or grimacing. Two children had earaches, but only one could tell me which ear was affected. The mother complained of a cough, but seemed to work to produce it.

Something was wrong with the picture. Our hospital policy, however, was not to turn away any patient, so we would see them. When I explained to the mother that it might be a little while before a doctor saw her because, even though the waiting room was empty, ambulances had brought in several, more critical patients, in the back, she responded, "Take your time, it's warm in here." She turned and, with a smile, guided her brood into the waiting room.

On a hunch (call it nursing judgment), I checked the chart after the admitting clerk had finished registering the family. No address - they were homeless. The waiting room was warm.

I looked out at the family huddled by the Christmas tree. The littlest one was pointing at the television and exclaiming something to her mother. The oldest one was looking at her reflection in an ornament on the Christmas tree.

I went back to the nurses station and mentioned we had a homeless family in the waiting room - a mother and four children between four and ten years of age. The nurses, grumbling about working Christmas, turned to compassion for a family just trying to get warm on Christmas. The team went into action, much as we do when there's a medical emergency. But this one was a Christmas emergency.

We were all offered a free meal in the hospital cafeteria on Christmas Day, so we claimed that meal and prepared a banquet for our Christmas guests.

We needed presents. We put together oranges and apples in a basket one of our vendors had brought the department for Christmas. We made little goodie bags of stickers we borrowed from the X-ray department, candy that one of the doctors had brought the nurses, crayons the hospital had from a recent coloring contest, nurse bear buttons the hospital had given the nurses at annual training day and little fuzzy bears that nurses clipped onto their stethoscopes. We also found a mug, a package of powdered cocoa, and a few other odds and ends. We pulled ribbon and wrapping paper and bells off the department's decorations that we had all contributed to. As seriously as we met physical needs of the patients that came to us that day, our team
worked to meet the needs, and exceed the expectations, of a family who just wanted to be warm on Christmas Day.

We took turns joining the Christmas party in the waiting room. Each nurse took his or her lunch break with the family, choosing to spend their "off duty" time with these people whose laughter and delightful chatter became quite contagious.

When it was my turn, I sat with them at the little banquet table we had created in the waiting room. We talked for a while about dreams.  The four children were telling me about what they would like to be when they grow up. The six-year-old started the conversation. "I want to be a nurse and help people," she declared.

After the four children had shared their dreams, I looked at the Mom.  She smiled and said, "I just want my family to be safe, warm and content - just like they are right now."

The "party" lasted most of the shift, before we were able to locate a shelter that would take the family in on Christmas Day. The mother had asked that their charts be pulled, so these patients were not seen that day in the emergency department. But they were treated.

As they walked to the door to leave, the four-year-old came running back, gave me a hug and whispered, "Thanks for being our angels today." As she ran back to join her family, they all waved one more time before the door closed. I turned around slowly to get back to work, a little embarrassed for the tears in my eyes. There stood a group of my coworkers, one with a box of tissues, which she passed around to each nurse who worked a Christmas Day she will never forget.

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From the CCED Story List 

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(Monday, December 6)

THE SANDS OF CHRISTMAS
By Michael Marks

I had no Christmas spirit when I breathed a weary sigh
  and looked across the table where the bills were piled too high.  
The laundry wasn't finished and the car I had to fix;
  my stocks were down another point, the Chargers lost by six.

And so with only minutes ' till my son got home from school
I gave up on the drudgery and grabbed a wooden stool.
The burdens that I carried were about all I could take,
and so I flipped the TV on to catch a little break.

I came upon a desert scene in shades of tan and rust,
No snowflakes hung upon the wind, just clouds of swirling dust.
And where the reindeer should have stood before a laden sleigh,
eight Humvees ran a column right behind an M1A.

A group of boys walked past the tank, not one was past his teens,
their eyes were hard as polished flint, their faces drawn and lean.
They walked the street in armor with their rifles shouldered tight,
their dearest wish for Christmas, just to have a silent night.

Other soldiers gathered, hunkered down against the wind
to share a scrap of mail and dreams of going home again.
There wasn't much at all to put their lonely hearts at ease;
they had no Christmas turkey, just a pack of MREs.

They didn't have a garland or a stocking I could see.
They didn't need an ornament--they lacked a Christmas tree.
They didn't have a present even though it was tradition;
the only boxes I could see were labeled "ammunition."

I felt a little tug and found my son now by my side.
He asked me what it was I feared, and why it was I cried.
I swept him up into my arms and held him oh so near
and kissed him on the forehead as I whispered in his ear.

There's nothing wrong my little son, for safe we sleep tonight.
Our heroes stand on foreign land to give us all the right
to worry on the things in life that mean nothing at all,
instead of wondering if we will be the next to fall.

He looked at me as children do and said it's always right
to thank the ones who help us and perhaps that we should write.
And so we pushed aside the bills and sat to draft a note
to thank the many far from home, and this is what we wrote:

God bless you all and keep you safe, and speed your way back home.
Remember that we love you so, and that you're not alone.
The gift you give you share with all, a present every day.
You give the gift of liberty, and that we can't repay.

Copyright 2003 Michael Marks: "I freely submit this poem for reprint without reservation--this is an open and grateful tribute to the men and women who serve every day to keep our nation safe."

(I received this through an email subscription to "Mikey's  Funnies."  Mikey had added a personal note... "This is sent in honor of my Marine son, Brian, and the 5,000 other Marines and Sailors, who are shipping out to the Persian Gulf from San Diego today. (And, of course, with gratefulness to those already there...)" Mikey)

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(Saturday, December 4)

Probably the reason
we all go so haywire
at Christmastime,
with the endless, unrestrained,
and often silly
buying of gifts,
is that we don't quite know
how to put
our love into words.
--Leo Tolstoy

from Everything I Need to Know About Christmas I Learned from Jesus

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