Posted on 12/26/2005 8:11:14 AM PST by Conservatrix
Here is the substance of her ignorance: Not knowing or caring about the emotions of young children. Pure ignorance. And a bit sadistic besides.
Man, she would have had a heck of a time with Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol.
"December 2005 Touchstone magazine, in which one of the authors gives a defense of allowing children to believe in Santa Claus as children. It's intelligently written"
It may be well-written but Christian are supposed to have no other gods before the Lord God.
Well, she's prettier than most substitutes. My son described his last substitute teacher as a "hag."
You seem to know an awful lot about this teacher. Do you also live in the south central PA region? (where Lebanon, PA is located)
Yes, we know each other.
Obviously you have no interest in a defense of the dissenting point of view. What a prideful shame.
I tried the same argument in 4th grade about Vachel Lindsay's "Congo"... it didn't get very far.
"As for small kids, perhaps you have a point and some fantasize about Santa being right up there with Jesus and the Holy Ghost, but in the long run isn't that a matter for parents to straighten out?"
Yes, indeed, and it is not something that people should have to teach in a public school as a truth.
You sound like the kind of person who would have raised his hand at the Last Supper, when Jesus declared "I am the true vine", and said, "Uh, no, Jesus, I must correct you: you are a human being, and you are God, but you are most certainly not a vine."
THOUGHT ABOUT IT.....and you are incorrect, but thanks for reminding me to avoid folks like this "teacher" in the future
And to some people healing on the Sabbath was a sin.
"Obviously you have no interest in a defense of the dissenting point of view. What a prideful shame."
I think rather that is the state of most of the opinions on this thread so far.
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
by Clement Clarke Moore
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
Looks like Santa should pay her a little visit...lol.
You sound like the kind of person who would have raised his hand at the Last Supper, when Jesus declared "I am the true vine", and said, "Uh, no, Jesus, I must correct you: you are a human being, and you are God, but you are most certainly not a vine."
Jesus is the true vine. I love Him and am not ashamed to call Him my Lord and my God.
No, it sounds like a FANTASY. There's a difference.
She reminds me of the Maureen O'Hara character in "Miracle on 34th Street".
I can however solve your little Satan Claus dillema.
Ready?
QUIT YOUR JOB AS A PUBLIC SCHOOL TEACHER!
Then you won't be exposed to all this stuff you find so offensive. You can find a bunch of like minded whackjobs and start your own school.
See how easy that was?
This one's on me honey.
L
So you're in good company then.
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