Brave women arriving on Normandy beach 1944 to assist the casualties. There were many "God Bless You-s" by the wounded.
Most Christmases have been great. Things went well the kids always had toys and a good Christmas Meal. Most of our Christmas times have been involved in some type of church experience. In my younger years most churches ‘put-on’ plays (That is how we described it). Many times we were in them or part of them.
This morning church service was mostly singing with scripture reading on either side of the Christmas Carol. When the Carol, ‘We Three Kings’ started, my smart alec wife of 61 Christmases elbowed me in the side and laughed quietly. It is an inside joke.
One that I have confessed to and related here on the internet for God, the devil, and some in between to read. Some small insignificant lapse in memory happens and no matter how many wonderful, marvelous, miraculous things you have done in your life, the memory thing is remembered longest.
Once while I was stationed at Keesler, AFB in Mississippi because of my superb voice and talent (or because they could find no one else (I forget which)) I was chosen to play the part of the third Wise man (Obvious reason there) and sing the third verse which begins ‘Myrrh is mine etc…’ The play went off without a hitch. Mary had the baby etc. and We Wise men marched in. The first two guys did pretty well, not great, everyone was waiting, holding their breath, for my strong soprano voice. I did not disappoint them. I belted out, “Myrrh is mine…. And at that time, from outer space a Russian satellite beamed a lazer at my ‘wise’ brain. I lost all memory. The satellite then through my lips started singing “da da da, da di da da da, da da di da da da da da” to the tune of We Three Kings.
It is an abomination that with all my awards and ‘atta boys’ FORGOTTEN. My wonderful assets lost, that in their Christmas cards which continued to come for years, saying: Merry Christmas Jack, DA DA DA DI!