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Remember, no matter where you are to say your prayers, because saying your prayers is , in effect, leaving your porch light on, even in the darkest of times

Mamas & Grandmas Make Way more Sense than Cultural Marxists Do


By —— Bio and Archives--December 16, 2018

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 leaving your porch light on
Like all other Christmases before it and any of those still to come, Christmas 2018 is a time to remember.  Like the King of Kings, whose Birthday it celebrates, Christmas is forever.

At this time of year in particular we all remember the loved ones no longer here and the rekindled memories in our hearts bring them back in spirit in a way that seems they never left.

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With the far left’s War on Christmas, It becomes increasingly difficult by year to make each Christmas a celebratory one.  Christmas 2018 worries that won’t go away make it somewhat unique because we know in our souls and hearts that it will lead to a zenith of hate by the Democrats who see control of the House their last chance to enforce the legacy of America-hating Barack Obama on the Western World.

Over this holiday season, progressives are laying plans to stage the 2nd Women’s March on Jan. 19 2019, making the wishes of their ionized hero Louis Farrakhan manifest.

Progressives would dismiss this, and any other trip down Memory Lane, as useless nostalgia, sentiment, and a tribute to tradition, things they automatically ridicule.

But remembering and respecting the the past, preserving tradition have always gone a long way to making life on Earth more bearable.

Remember when comedians really were funny? pictures. 

Oh, for those long ago days when comedians used their comedic talent to make us laugh, with zero attempts to convert us over to cultural Marxism!

FLIP WILSON, GEORGE CARLIN, ROBIN WILLIAMS

Remember when talent was so epic that it left you reeling in genuine awe? Johnny Carson video



Remember when inspirational music came with the ability to move you, when the haunting strains of an unforgettable ballad could call you away from what you were doing at the time, when the lyrics crooned rather than screeched at you?



Remember the days when friends were true, loving friends you could count on in times of trouble rather than the fickle “followers” created by even more fickle social media; when trolls were a figment of our imagination and lived under bridges; the days when the biggest strides on the Internet came without social media making out like Keystone cops?

Remember the days when most people politely ignored politicians and their empty rhetoric rather than joining the first mindless mob of the latest protest?

Remember when people got angry only about things that really matter?

Remember when at least some Hollywood movies had a moral, not to mention even a point

ITS A WONDERFUL LIFE

Each of us likely has a memory store of thousands of personal memories that seem to come flooding back to us each Christmas season.

One of my most indelible ones was the Sunday my Mom joined a friend to attend Mass outside the neighborhood.  Promising her I’d be on time for services at my local church, I merrily skipped out the door the minute her back was turned.  I ran giddily along neighborhood streets singing “Free, free to do whatever I want today”, between tossing and catching a small bag of potato chips.  All was carefree and jaunty until I had to wait my turn crossing from the curb at the corner where the Baptist Church stood.  Ladies, their faces wreathed in joyous smiles, wearing colorful go-to-church-Sunday hats called out, “God loves you!” as I waited my turn at the curb.

Somehow escaping church because my mother was away didn’t seem as much fun anymore.

I remember hearing in my childhood about an elderly lady, likely in the beginning stages of dementia, wandering outside in a raging blizzard having been found frozen at the end of her street in the morning, and can still hear mothers’ voices telling the last one in at night; “Don’t forget to leave the porch light on!”

Remember when the last words you heard before going to bed each night were ones with your Grandma telling you, “Remember to say your prayers”; your Mama’s steady admonishments: “Don’t forget to wash behind your ears!”

Do you remember your mother’s advice when you came home from school crying the day Bobby what’s-his-name called you “Four Eyes” because you were wearing new glasses? “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me”?”

Remember forever what your Mama and Grandma told and still tell you what to do, rather than the ongoing indoctrination of the ever-preaching mainstream and social media.

Homespun as they may be, your stories are so much more interesting than those being spun by the media, and all the more enduring because they’re true.

The Bells of St. Mary’s are still tolling,  I’s just that in all the never-ending White Noise that surrounds you, it’s hard to hear them anymore.

Even so, even after decades of Marxist indoctrination, you are what you think, are what you pray.

The laurel-wreathed Democrats will be more bombastic than ever at their January 3rd , 2019 Coming Out Party, not realizing that All Things (including them) are passing.

It was Jesus who told us that to be truly great you have to be truly small.

Mamas and Grandmas in all countries, It’s important to tell up and coming generations what you remember from the past.

Because without you and your memories they will not just not remember but not even know.

Remember,  no matter where you are to say your prayers,  because saying your prayers is , in effect, leaving your porch light on, even in the darkest of times.


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Judi McLeod -- Bio and Archives | Comments

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Judi McLeod is an award-winning journalist with 30 years’ experience in the print media. A former Toronto Sun columnist, she also worked for the Kingston Whig Standard. Her work has appeared on Rush Limbaugh, Newsmax.com, Drudge Report, Foxnews.com.

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