I call it like I see it!

There was this guy, see. He was pretty well known in the neighbourhood. Not particularly handsome, but he sure treated the ladies well--respectfully. He didn't have kids of his own, but adored the little tykes. He spent time with medical professionals, government employees, and could often be found hanging on the docks with his fishermen buddies.

After his death, his friends rallied and came up with ways to make sure he wasn't forgotten. He had done some wonderful things in his day. They wanted people to know how much they appreciated him. So, over time, they were inspired to create hospitals and universities. In honour of his acknowledgment of children as special little people, they founded orphanages.

His life has a profound influence on our everyday lives--whether we realize it or not.

And this is the time of year that's been set aside to remember that he was a little tyke once too.

His dad named him Jesus. He was bloody and wet when he was born--so it's pretty likely that he cried. He was breastfed. He pooped in a cloth diaper. He lived in a blended family (his dad wasn't his real Father).

It's called Christmas, people. Christmas. And it's time we shout it for the world to hear. The Jews have Hanukkah. The Muslims have Ramadan. The witches have Halloween. Christmas and Easter belong to Jesus' friends. Whether you like it or not--it's called Christmas.

So you won't be hearing me say, "Happy holidays".

I'll be joyfully and proudly stating, "Merry Christmas!!"