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Wreath thief strikes again

Every year one of my clients, who is in the holiday wreath business, gives me the gift of a lovely fresh wreath.

I hang it on the front door of my law office building that sits prominently in downtown Troutdale and is a stone’s throw from the police station.

And for the last five years it has been stolen off my door during non-business hours.

My wife asks me why I don’t just bring it home instead of losing it each year to this predictable thief. As one sage said, “No matter how short your wife is, bend down and listen to her!”

No doubt if the wreath gift continues next year I will continue putting it on the building door in the eternal hope that the wreath thief has changed his or her ways or has moved to some other community.

If the thief is reading this letter they are probably reading it from a paper stolen from some subscriber’s mailbox.

Richard A. Weill

Corbett

In a better place

Twas’ 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38

When 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven’s gate.

Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air.

They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there.

They were filled with such joy, they didn’t know what to say.

They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day.

“Where are we?” asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse.

“This is heaven, declared a small boy. “We’re spending Christmas at God’s house.”

When what to their wondering eyes did appear,

But Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near.

He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same.

Then He opened His arms and He called them by name.

And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring

Those children all flew into the arms of their King,

And as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace,

One small girl turned and looked at Jesus’ face.

And as if He could read all the questions she had,

He gently whispered to her, “I’ll take care of mom and dad.”

Then He looked down on earth, the world far below,

He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow and woe.

Then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand,

“Let My power and presence re-enter this land!

May this country be delivered from the hands of fools.

I’m taking back my nation. I’m taking back my schools!”

Then He and the children stood up without a sound.

“Come now my children, let me show you around.”

Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran.

All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can.

And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight,

“In the midst of this darkness, I am still the light.”

• Written by Cameo Smith,

Mt. Wolf, Pa.

• Submitted by Kelly Broomall,

Troutdale



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