Month: December 2013

Oh, Coffee!

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“Oh Coffee, you dispel the worries of the Great, you point the way to those who have wandered from the path of knowledge. Coffee is the drink of the friends of God, and of his servants who seek wisdom.

…No one can understand the truth until he drinks of its frothy goodness. Those who condemn coffee as causing man harm are fools in the eyes of God.

Coffee is the common man’s gold, and like gold it brings to every man the feeling of luxury and nobility….Take time in your preparations of coffee and God will be with you and bless you and your table. Where coffee is served there is grace and splendor and friendship and happiness.

All Cares vanish as the coffee cup is raised to the lips. Coffee flows through your body as freely as your life’s blood, refreshing all that it touches: look you at the youth and vigor of those who drink it.

Whoever tastes coffee will forever forswear the liquor of the grape. Oh drink of God’s glory, your purity brings to man only well-being and nobility“

– Sheik Ansari Djezeri Hanball Abd-al-Kadir, 1587


Christmas Bells

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I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said;
“For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men.”
– Henry Longfellow Wadsworth

Christmas Trees

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The city had withdrawn into itself   And left at last the country to the country;   When between whirls of snow not come to lie   And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove   A stranger to our yard, who looked the city,   Yet did in country… fashion in that there   He sat and waited till he drew us out   A-buttoning coats to ask him who he was.   He proved to be the city come again   To look for something it had left behind And could not do without and keep its Christmas.   He asked if I would sell my Christmas trees;   My woods—the young fir balsams like a place   Where houses all are churches and have spires.   I hadn’t thought of them as Christmas Trees.   I doubt if I was tempted for a moment   To sell them off their feet to go in cars   And leave the slope behind the house all bare, Where the sun shines now no warmer than the moon.   I’d hate to have them know it if I was.   Yet more I’d hate to hold my trees except   As others hold theirs or refuse for them,   Beyond the time of profitable growth,   The trial by market everything must come to.   I dallied so much with the thought of selling.   Then whether from mistaken courtesy   And fear of seeming short of speech, or whether   From hope of hearing good of what was mine, I said, “There aren’t enough to be worth while.”   “I could soon tell how many they would cut,   You let me look them over.”
“You could look.   But don’t expect I’m going to let you have them.” Pasture they spring in, some in clumps too close   That lop each other of boughs, but not a few   Quite solitary and having equal boughs   All round and round. The latter he nodded “Yes” to,   Or paused to say beneath some lovelier one,   With a buyer’s moderation, “That would do.” I thought so too, but wasn’t there to say so.   We climbed the pasture on the south, crossed over,   And came down on the north. He said, “A thousand.”
“A thousand Christmas trees!—at what apiece?”
He felt some need of softening that to me: “A thousand trees would come to thirty dollars.”
Then I was certain I had never meant   To let him have them. Never show surprise!   But thirty dollars seemed so small beside   The extent of pasture I should strip, three cents   (For that was all they figured out apiece),   Three cents so small beside the dollar friends   I should be writing to within the hour   Would pay in cities for good trees like those,   Regular vestry-trees whole Sunday Schools   Could hang enough on to pick off enough.   A thousand Christmas trees I didn’t know I had!   Worth three cents more to give away than sell,   As may be shown by a simple calculation.   Too bad I couldn’t lay one in a letter.   I can’t help wishing I could send you one,   In wishing you herewith a Merry Christmas.
– Robert Frost

The Days Before Christmas

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T’was the days before Christmas and all through the town Not a sign of Baby Jesus was anywhere to be found.

The people were all busy with Christmas time chores Like decorating, and baking, and shopping in stores.

No “Away in a manger, no crib for a bed.” Instead, songs of Santa dressed up in bright red.

Mama watched soaps while Papa took a nap. As hour upon hour, the presents they’d wrap.

When what from the T.V. did suddenly appear? A brand new add for a big sale at the mall.

So away to the shops they all flew like a flash… Buying some things on credit, and others with cash!

And as they made their way home from their trip to the mall, Did they think about Jesus? Oh no, not at all.

Their lives were so busy with their Christmastime things. They forgot about Jesus, The Savior, The King.

To pray to the Savior, they had no time to stop… Because they needed more time to “shop till they dropped!”

At home on the roof, there arose such a clatter As Grandpa hung lights with his brand new step ladder.

He hung lights that would flash. He hung lights that would twirl. Yet, he forgot Jesus… The Light of the World.

Christ’s eyes… how they twinkle!

Christ’s Spirit… how merry!

Christ’s love… how enormous!

All our burdens… He’ll carry!

So instead of being busy, overworked, and uptight, Seek Jesus this Christmas, and all will be right.

Original author of the poem is unknown. Adaptations were made by me!


Again That Time Of Year Is Here

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Again That Time of Year is Here
Again that time of year is here
When wreaths elves lights appear
The hue of Santa’s suit and sleigh
Adding color the wintry skies of gray…
Until pansies roses tulips grow
Melting all of the Season’s snow
But I like holly gifts Advent more
Than all that springtime holds in store
For it’s this I’ll tell you I so adore:
Again that time of year is here
When wreaths elves lights appear