Ebeneezer Goes To Town
For those of you who know me, you won't disbelieve the following tale for a moment.
It all started when I was in Wal-Mart last night with some relatives. For the record, I was in a town that I do not (but once did) live in.
Anyway, Our Heroine was trotting along, looking for bargain CDs and snazzy sequinned belts, when the keen urge for an Icee hit her, and hard.
So she trolloped along the avenue, lighting upon the blessed Icee machine. Noting the abominable, 20-deep lines that, well, lined the front of the store, she resigned herself to a long wait, and began to ponder a totally unrelated matter.
A kind and wonderful woman behind the counter had been sneaking furtive glances at Our Heroine for 20 minutes before she came over and took Sally (by the arm) to her register.
"I've been watching you, and you're bein' all patient! Where's your stuff?"
Sally silently pointed at the overpriced paper Icee cups, and smiled shyly.
"Ohhhh, I see, honey. All that Christmas shoppin' got you tired, hmmmmmm?"
Sally's shy smile drops out of sight, and her heavy black brows, reminiscent of Satan's, shoot towards her hairline.
"Haha," she begins, her first words for 30 minutes. "It's actually pretty funny that you mention that, because the truth is, I'm calling for a boycott of Christmas as we know it!"
The kind checkout chick looks at the respectably-attired Sally, not sure what to believe. An older man who has joined the queue lets out a less-than-dignified snort.
"I'm serious, y'all!" says Sally, whipping around to address Uncle Snorty, who now looks more alarmed than sarcastic.
"I mean really, think about it all... CHRIST- MASSS. Christmas. What's the season about? What's it all about, Alfie? JESUS, that's who! The presents and the trees--it has nothing to do with it. The tree's actually derived from a pagan tradition, bet you didn't know that!" she said, with something akin to smugness. Warming to her topic, she turned further, to address a few more people who joined the gathering.
"What would happen if you stopped buying presents? What would happen if you put up a Jesus sticker on your window, instead of some silly snowflake? It is Florida, after all, and the last time an actual snowflake was seen here was, well, never! Hmph."
A nattily dressed man holding some bagels and a card saying "Happy New Year!" said, "What about me? I'm Jewish. I don't celebrate Christmas at all."
Our Heroine gazed stonily at the newcomer, before tossing out her response. "So there's no problem then, is there!"
Glancing around for support, Sally finished her tirade: "The point is, people who have no interest in following Christ on the other 364 days of the year have NO BUSINESS celebrating Christmas! Furthermore, they have NO BUSINESS trying to warp what is, essentially, a religious celebration that should be passed in Church!"
A few people applauded and Sally got more several smiles than she did "What a nut!" looks, so that was good. BUT. No one turned tail and replaced their Beanie Babies and Tickle Me Elmos!
Hmph.
Maybe next year...?
(In an amusing and predictable twist of fate, the Icee machine was out of Cola Icee when Our Heroine reached it. Sigh...)
It all started when I was in Wal-Mart last night with some relatives. For the record, I was in a town that I do not (but once did) live in.
Anyway, Our Heroine was trotting along, looking for bargain CDs and snazzy sequinned belts, when the keen urge for an Icee hit her, and hard.
So she trolloped along the avenue, lighting upon the blessed Icee machine. Noting the abominable, 20-deep lines that, well, lined the front of the store, she resigned herself to a long wait, and began to ponder a totally unrelated matter.
A kind and wonderful woman behind the counter had been sneaking furtive glances at Our Heroine for 20 minutes before she came over and took Sally (by the arm) to her register.
"I've been watching you, and you're bein' all patient! Where's your stuff?"
Sally silently pointed at the overpriced paper Icee cups, and smiled shyly.
"Ohhhh, I see, honey. All that Christmas shoppin' got you tired, hmmmmmm?"
Sally's shy smile drops out of sight, and her heavy black brows, reminiscent of Satan's, shoot towards her hairline.
"Haha," she begins, her first words for 30 minutes. "It's actually pretty funny that you mention that, because the truth is, I'm calling for a boycott of Christmas as we know it!"
The kind checkout chick looks at the respectably-attired Sally, not sure what to believe. An older man who has joined the queue lets out a less-than-dignified snort.
"I'm serious, y'all!" says Sally, whipping around to address Uncle Snorty, who now looks more alarmed than sarcastic.
"I mean really, think about it all... CHRIST- MASSS. Christmas. What's the season about? What's it all about, Alfie? JESUS, that's who! The presents and the trees--it has nothing to do with it. The tree's actually derived from a pagan tradition, bet you didn't know that!" she said, with something akin to smugness. Warming to her topic, she turned further, to address a few more people who joined the gathering.
"What would happen if you stopped buying presents? What would happen if you put up a Jesus sticker on your window, instead of some silly snowflake? It is Florida, after all, and the last time an actual snowflake was seen here was, well, never! Hmph."
A nattily dressed man holding some bagels and a card saying "Happy New Year!" said, "What about me? I'm Jewish. I don't celebrate Christmas at all."
Our Heroine gazed stonily at the newcomer, before tossing out her response. "So there's no problem then, is there!"
Glancing around for support, Sally finished her tirade: "The point is, people who have no interest in following Christ on the other 364 days of the year have NO BUSINESS celebrating Christmas! Furthermore, they have NO BUSINESS trying to warp what is, essentially, a religious celebration that should be passed in Church!"
A few people applauded and Sally got more several smiles than she did "What a nut!" looks, so that was good. BUT. No one turned tail and replaced their Beanie Babies and Tickle Me Elmos!
Hmph.
Maybe next year...?
(In an amusing and predictable twist of fate, the Icee machine was out of Cola Icee when Our Heroine reached it. Sigh...)
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nagy