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Dear Reader, Since Christmas is a time to send letters and cards to friends and family, here’s my Christmas letter to y’all.
The Christmas season is a reminder of the power of love and light. If you are a Christian, you commemorate the time when God reached down to earth and gave the ultimate gift, his son, Jesus.
Other religions also have major holidays at this time of year. The Jews celebrate Hanukkah or the Festival of Lights; African-Americans celebrate their heritage during Kwanzaa. Muslims have The Feast of Sacrifice, which commemorates the time Abraham intended to follow God’s instructions and sacrifice his son.
Many people around the world make note of the winter solstice, when the encroaching darkness ends and the long warm days of spring promise to return once more. It is a joyous time all over the earth.
My letter is sent to tell you how much I enjoy writing this column. As I have said before, it is not really my column, but yours. The ideas and the energy come from you. The joy comes from you and I simply return it.
When someone stops in Walmart and tells me they like my column, that makes me happy. When someone e-mails me with an idea for a future column, I immediately print it and put it in my idea file.
When a dear friend reminds me I did, in fact, buy something this year despite my claims to the contrary, that lets me know she cares and wants to keep my honest. (I purchased a $19 bathing suit on a ladies golf trip last spring. I had forgotten to bring mine and I really, really wanted to float on the Lazy River at our hotel in Litchfield.)
The long and short of it is I enjoy writing this column and I love all of you for reading it. Since I cannot send each of you a gift, here is a Silly Santa Story with an illustration by my dear friend and gifted artist, John Saporito.
The Year Santa (Almost) Forgot Christmas
On the day before Christmas in 2005,
Santa stood on the tee and hit a long drive
The course was made of crystals and snow
Ice ponds, white bunkers and greens aglow
With velvet undulations
Leading to prognostications,
And loud vocalizations!
The elves had built it just for St. Nick
Behind the glacier, back of the drift
It looked like St. Andrews, Pine Valley and Troon
Oakmont, Pebble and Pacific Dunes
With all of the terrors, all of the joys
A course for all time, the ultimate toy!
Santa hit that first ball with a terrible swipe
Sparks flew and marked the ball’s long flight
Down the fairway it roared, rolled up and sat
Right near the pin, needing only a tap
For an eagle on the very first hole.
Santa was thrilled to the core of his soul.
But things got more tricky, the longer he played
His putts were short, he started to spray,
On fourteen, he shanked one deep in the brush,
As he poked around, a primal hush
Fell over the forest, a star to the east,
Signaled Christmas, time for the feast!
Celebrate life, sing carols and smile,
Give hugs and just for a while,
Let peace come into your heart.
Santa whisked his clubs back into his bag,
Turned and looked longingly back at the flag,
Signaled for Rudolph and got into his sleigh
The golf course would wait for a warm summer day,
Time to bring gifts, up, up and away!
CHRISTMAS GOLF GAB GROANERS:
Why does Santa have three gardens?
So he can Ho-Ho-Ho.
What do get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?
Why was Santa’s little helper sad?
He had low elf-esteem.
What do snowmen eat for breakfast?
What do you call people who are afraid of Santa Claus?
ELSA BONSTEIN is a golf columnist for the Beacon. Reach her at firstname.lastname@example.org.