‘Tis the season!
This year, finally, I have reached a semblance of economic stability that will allow me to purchase gifts—my grandchildren come first, then my children and their spouses. And not exorbitantly expensive gifts because I am not trying to keep up with anyone. As for me, I do not expect nor am I interested in gifts for myself.
Christmas is for children, and that is as it should be.
Yet, all things considered, I find myself lacking the Christmas Spirit this year. It might be a number of things, not the least of which is being “on the outs” with the property manager of the apartments I live in. Fortunately, I am not so poor as in the past and I am able to move, which I intend to do. Nonetheless, this rift has cast a pall over the holiday season for me.
This year, having the financial ability to do so, I funded my three grandchildren (6, 4, and 2 years old) picking Christmas “wish tags” for needy children from the Salvation Army. With help from their mom and dad they each picked a toy that they took to the Salvation Army – their donation to needy children. I want my grandchildren to learn something about giving to others. The youngest ones may not understand, but my 6-year old grandson probably does.
When we saw homeless people camped out recently along a chain link fence my grandson asked what they were doing and I told him they were homeless people with nowhere to go. He replied, “I was homeless.” And he and his siblings were homeless for six weeks this past summer, including camping out in a broken down van for a couple of nights before their mom found a homeless shelter. (My grandchildren, and their mom and dad live with me now.)
I read once that Americans are a very giving people; the Great Recession has taken a bite out of the giving, yet Americans remain a giving people.
And here in Las Vegas, famous for sin, gambling and sex, there is a percentage of the population who cared enough to dig into their pockets to buy just about anything a child from 1 month to 12 years may want for Christmas. Without the caring of these people, there are many children who would wake up Christmas morning without a present to open.
In closing, whether you are rich or poor, or just keeping your head above water, step back from the holiday rat race. Make the time to turn up the Christmas music and really enjoy your spouse and your children (and grandchildren). And if there is time, donate a toy to a local charity—guaranteed your donation will bring a smile to a child’s face on Christmas morning.
Merry Christmas to you and yours!
Here is a brief intro to one paranormal book by SS Hampton, Sr.
Here's a little from my paranormal book to enjoy while you munch on that fantastic sandwich.
As a result of war, technology often makes great progress by leaps and bounds – but sometimes the progress of technology can bring complications…
Halloween Night, 2006 – a resupply convoy commanded by the Air Force and escorted by Army gun trucks, is leaving Kuwait for Baghdad. The lonely desert highway north is MSR Tampa, a bloody highway along which for years the convoys suffered insurgent attacks. And on MSR Tampa there is a particular wooded bend that no one speaks of, though many know of its haunted reputation, a reputation given new life by a gun truck crew testing a new generation of enhanced night vision goggles…
Sergeant Travis Harland peered through the helmet-mounted, experimental Enhanced Next Generation/Night Vision Goggles, called Cyclops, at the bright, fuzzy, greenish-white glow of the Iraqi desert. Isolated homes and small villages swam out of the darkness before disappearing into greenish-black static that reminded him of a haunted landscape. From time to time he was rudely jolted when the Cyclops bumped against the side ballistic window of his growling HMMWV gun truck that led the supply convoy up Main Supply Route Tampa, bound for Baghdad.
A bright shaft of greenish-white light swept across the dunes and clumps of brush to their right before locking onto a small dusty mound further ahead. A metallic voice sounded in the earphones shoved under Harland’s already tight fitting Kevlar helmet.
“-at the one o’clock, a hundred yards ahead,” the Gunner, Specialist Paul Bonner, said.
Harland sighed. A gun truck wasn’t built for comfort, especially when the Gun Truck Commander was tall and thin, as he was. Being thin didn’t provide much of a cushion for sitting, especially on army seats. And communications glitches didn’t help his mood either.
“Bonner! You hit the off-switch again, you fucking idiot. Say again.”
“Pile of sand and rocks at the two o’clock, fifty yards ahead. Throwing a glo-stick,” Bonner said. A bright fluorescent stick tumbled through the dusty, windy night to land next to the pile that was already so well marked by glo-sticks from previous convoys. Glo-sticks warned of a sometimes suspicious feature for following vehicles.
The driver, Private First Class Lee Stewart, veered into the left lane, away from the pile...
To read more from An Incident on MSR Tampa please click a vendor's name.
Musa Publishing - Amazon
His writings have appeared as stand-alone stories and in anthologies from Dark Opus Press, Edge Science Fiction & Fantasy, Melange Books, Musa Publishing, MuseItUp Publishing, Ravenous Romance, and as stand-alone stories in Horror Bound Magazine, The Harrow, and River Walk Journal, among others.
In May 2014 he graduated from the College of Southern Nevada with an Associate of Applied Science Degree in Photography – Commercial Photography Emphasis. A future goal is to study for a degree in archaeology—hopefully to someday work in and photograph underwater archaeology (and also learning to paint).
Hampton can be found at:
Dark Opus Press - Edge Science Fiction & Fantasy Publishing - Melange Books -
Musa Publishing - MuseItUp Publishing - Goodreads Author Page
Amazon Author Page - Amazon UK