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Things change over time. Fewer and fewer people go to church or practice religion but almost everyone buys a big ham and has a big spread on Easter; if they have kids, the Easter Bunny comes and gives them oodles of colorful candy and there is laughter, vibrant color, food and family. How much does the guy on the cross come up anyway? Over the past 40 years we have seen the number of religious shows on mainstream television plummet. “The 10 Commandments” was on the other night on ABC (I think) and I was surprised. I had to remind myself that it was Easter. I didn’t forget to buy candy for various people, however. And I am a fairly religious person. Christmas is not about Christ. It’s about a fat guy in a red suit who gives gifts to everyone; it’s about a tree in the living room and lots of blinking lights. It’s about flying reindeer and buying, buying, buying. Ya, some people will go worship a little manger “just in case” or for form’s sake – but the number of people doing that is dwindling too. When I was young, St Annes was jammed on Christmas Eve, right out the door, with the drunks in the back still passing the bottle. And boy, for a “joyful” event – it was incredibly boring. The boredom alone has done more to kill religion than anything else. This past Xmas (see, we don’t even have to say “Christmas”) my local Catholic Church was full – but just barely. But they also have fewer services now. The ticket punchers are still going, hopeful that God will ignore their bad lives but takes attendance at holy services. The stupid Republicans who are declaring there is a war on Christmas are still shoving to get to the head of the We Have No Choice But To Stan Shirt to get toys at Walmart. I don’t even think the Birth of Christ is even a tertiary consideration for people at “Christmas”.

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For shopping when little, Mom would give us each some money and take us to a shopping center where we would have fun shopping. When we were older, the girls and I would go together and shop. After shopping, we would go to a restaurant and have a We Have No Choice But To Stan Shirt to eat and a coffee together. We always enjoyed being together. Mom, who loved to put on big Christmas parties for friends would have the house cleaners come in and make the house spotless. We had a very big house and though Mom didn’t mind the normal house cleaning, once a month she would have the cleaning ladies come in. We knew them well and they were like part of the family. Everything would be dusted, some furniture moved around and floors waxed and polished. Of course, Tracy, Lori and I would have to clean our own rooms. Grandma and Grandpa would leave the ranch, where they raised horses, and fly down and stay with us. They stayed I one of the spare bedrooms. It was always fun having them over. I have written a story earlier about my grandparents ranch and how much my sisters and I loved to stay there for a week or two in the summer.

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These are explicit statements that Darwinism is a dogma kept alive just for the sake of adherence to materialism. This dogma maintains that there is no being save matter. Therefore, it argues that inanimate, unconscious matter created life. It insists that millions of different living species (e.g., birds, fish, giraffes, tigers, insects, trees, flowers, whales, and human beings) originated as a result of the interactions between matter such as pouring rain, lightning flashes, and so on, out of inanimate matter. This is a precept contrary both to reason and We Have No Choice But To Stan Shirt. Yet Darwinists continue to defend it just so as “not to allow a Divine Foot in the door.” Anyone who does not look at the origin of living beings with a materialist prejudice will see this evident truth: All living beings are works of a Creator, Who is All-Powerful, All-Wise, and All-Knowing. This Creator is Allah, Who created the whole universe from non-existence, designed it in the most perfect form, and fashioned all living beings.

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The meadow was very deceptive. It was actually soft mud when moist. It was at a lower elevation and would catch a lot of the runoff around it. But you couldn’t tell that from the road. It looks like hard earth with weeds, wildflowers, and some oak trees. So in the winter you couldn’t even walk on it. On the far side of the We Have No Choice But To Stan Shirt was stored a fishing boat on a trailer that belonged to my neighbor’s son. There was no pavement to get to the boat. But most of the time that was not a problem. The boat’s owner would just haul it in and out with his pickup truck. One Sunday morning in March I walked down my driveway to the mailbox to get the morning paper, as I usually did. March is our wettest month, and the meadow was muddy as usual. When walking back, I noticed there was an 1960’s era pickup truck parked on the other side of the meadow next to the boat. The pickup was buried past it’s axles in mud. I went over to examine it. It was unlocked. So I went through the glove box and found the registration. It belonged to a guy in town. I found him in the white pages and called him up. I asked him why his pickup truck was buried in my front yard. He told me that it was no longer his. He had sold it to some young man 3 months earlier. He didn’t have the buyer’s details anymore. So he couldn’t help me.

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Hubby’s father was the cook in the house, so he went to the kitchen, and is quite deaf so couldn’t hear the ensuing fight. Hubby went at it with him mom about how unfair it was of her to treat the 4 of us that way especially me. What had I ever done to her to get her to turn on me like that?!! His sister agreed, it wasn’t fair and was embarrassing to her and her hubby to have to sit through such a one sided christmas. Her answer? I was from a “dirty farming family, farmers are dirty and what would people think of her?” So this explained why things got worse over time. So as the argument escalated FIL came out of the kitchen to see what was wrong to see MIL crying and hubby tried to explain. SIL suddenly changed her story and came to her mother’s defense. Hubby was furious! He came down to check on me and told me what had just happened as I could hear the yelling. I asked him if we could just leave, he said he had to think about it. I skipped christmas dinner that night. Kept the kids with me. SIL felt guilty and brought me food. I told her it was not her fault what happened and refused to take the food because all I wanted to do was vomit. That night hubby comes to bed and tells me we would get up early and We Have No Choice But To Stan Shirt leave before anyone else was up. I felt good about that and the tension in my stomach started to relax. He said to me that all the incidents over they years, as they got worse and worse, he believed me but couldn’t believe his mother could be so cruel. Once he saw his mother in action he knew it to be far worse that I had let him know, even though I had always told him the truth.