Jingle Blog. (This title is in no way indicative of the content.)

Christmas. For those who know me best, it's quite apparent that I kind of like this holiday. Actually, I am head over heels in love with it. I dream about it every day of the year. I feel like I'm on top of the world every time the mere thought of Christmas enters my mind, which isn't too often. Only like 10 times a minute. I drool at the thought of the day. Not really; that would be nasty. But almost. Needless to say, Christmas is perfect. In each and every sense of that beautiful word.

But today I had the opportunity to see that this is not the case for all people, as our present-clouded, filthy-rich, "the-value-of-Christmas-rests-in-the-value-on-the-price-tag" minds so often attempt to convince ourselves that it is. Not everyone anticipates Christmas as the greatest time of year. Not everyone dreams about it. Not everyone has a Christmas tree to be rockin' around. Not everyone can say, "I'll be home for Christmas." Because that home doesn't exist. You see, today I worked at an inner-city soup kitchen. There were hundreds of people there who had nothing but the thin filthy tatters of "clothing" upon their backs. They had no reason to anticipate the big day to come. And you know what? They were the most joyous, visibly blessed people in the world. There were men without teeth who had the fullest smiles I had ever laid eyes on. There were children without toys who played with great ease and happiness, simply because they were in a warm place for the first time in days. There were bone-skinny people who had the warmest hugs and the biggest hearts I've ever encountered. There were others who could be smelled from ten feet away and yet still exuded the sweetest, most contagious air of peace and beauty. Yes. It was perhaps the most picturesque scene of my life. Amidst the rugged exteriors shone the most pristine of interiors. And that's Christmas for you.

That's Christ for you. He was nothing. He didn't have anything special in His outward appearance. He came as a lowly baby. Yes; He was indeed nothing. And yet He was everything. Dare I say it again? That's Christmas for you.

So live gratefully. Recognize the fact that if you're reading this, you have a computer or an iPad or a smart phone or something else. And if you have one of those, then you have far more than you need. So, by the commutative property, it's safe to say you, as a reader, are so unbelievably overly blessed. But don't feel guilty. Do something about it.

And most of all. Celebrate gratefully. Eat gratefully. Unwrap gratefully. Sing gratefully. Laugh gratefully. Relish gratefully. And take heed of the fact that you are blessed beyond reason. Gratefully.

Merry Christmas.

P.S. Shout out to the boy who was overcome with happiness when he was allowed to take an extra chocolate milk today at the soup kitchen. May blessings abound.