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This Holy Night 12.14.17 .pdf


Original filename: This Holy Night 12.14.17.pdf
Author: Martindale, John

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Sadly and somehow, we find ourselves living at a time where hyper-partisanship,
unwavering ideologies, and abuses of power in government and over vulnerable citizens pull
at the very fabric our parents and grandparents worked so hard to quilt together to make
the United States the land of opportunity and hope for them and for all of us. I’m not sure
when the tearing up of the American tapestry began to occur, where we became so divisive,
so set in our ways, and so blinded by ambition that even common sense measures that
would help and protect all of us could not be agreed upon and where common decency was
distilled from our moral psyche, but, regrettably, the tearing up has occurred.
Perhaps the unraveling began with the advent of 24-hours news on cable television, where
the increasing political vitriol is constantly Breaking News at the top of every hour,
subliminally or maybe purposely pulling us apart. Or perhaps, due to our own
opportunities for prosperity since the hardships of the depression our grandparents knew,
the unstitching came from our increasing laser-like focus to obtain and then protect our
rise on the political and or social ladders at the expense of those around us, until some
catastrophic event shakes us from our self-interests and apathy towards others and
reminds us of the stock from which we came and that it is now our turn to share the
burdens of our fallen fellow citizenry no matter their color, beliefs, and life style when we
see those burdens are too heavy for our brothers, sisters, and children to carry themselves.
It has been five years since the events at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown,
Connecticut shook us all, and still senseless horrific tragedies occur. When we think of that
December morning, salty tears fill our eyes again, just as pools fill the shallows along the
shore, after another nor’easter’s higher tide has made its run.
A year or so ago, after I looked, again, at a photograph of the 26 innocent Sandy Hook
students’, teachers’, and school officials’ faces and wept, I wrote lyrics, which were meant to
replace those written by Wihla Hutson and Alfred S. Burt in a Christmas song they wrote
titled, Some Children See Him. Back then, I modified their lyrics a bit to pay tribute to those
children and the brave teachers and school officials who gave their lives protecting them,
but as I tapped out the words, I found that the act of writing also renewed my soul, just as
those higher storm tides’ actions restore the beach by uncovering multi colored sea glass
treasures and magical circled sea stones.
The link below is Some Children See Him.
As you listen to the melody and read my lyrics, please say a prayer for those 20 children
and the six heroes, as well as for their families who miss them still. But more than your
prayers for them, let’s promise to let our memories of those treasured children and
astonishing adults become the faithful energy, which prompts us to take action to cleanse
the sullied strandline we all walk along every day before the next natural or man-made
disaster has to remind us, yet again, of our legacy to do so.
With the holy night of Christmas, but days away, I wish you and your family peace, love,
and goodwill. I hope that you allow those gifts to open your hearts, so that love can rise on
behalf of the 20 plus six who we remember today and beyond...

This Holy Night
Some Children See Him Link
One child sees Him, with skin of brown,
And dark round eyes with a flower blue crown
Near kings of three with gifts placed down
Upon this Holy night
One child sees Him, with hair of red,
A freckled face, as He lay in bed
Near shepherds who bowed with words unsaid
Upon this Holy night

One child sees Him, with red ball cap,
A dream that earns Him a home-run lap
Near 20 plus six who watch Him nap
Upon this Holy night
One child sees Him, with a graceful glow,
A toothless grin with a pink hair bow
Near Mary, His mom, tear’d eyes that know
Upon this Holy night
Each child views Him, as if s/he were He,
Each child sees Jesus diff’rently
Yet all their eyes see Him lovingly
Upon this Holy night
So, one by one, let us realize,
There are those who view Him through diff’rent eyes
That opens their hearts, so Love can rise
Beyond this Holy night
Beyond this Holy night


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