Date of publication: 2017-09-02 20:48
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Cherish the joyful spirit of Christmas Festival with these heartfelt and reflective essays on Christmas! We also invite you to share your feelings and expereinces on Christmas by sending us Christmas Essays written by you. Your essay will be posted on this page along with your name!!
When reading this kind of saccharine psychological bilge, I feel rather (though not exactly) as I do after having eaten too many chocolate truffles at a sitting. Alternatively, one might call the thoughts of the author of the articles psychological kitsch. Kitsch is hard to define but easy to recognize: It is a kind of sentimental garishness approximating or imitating, but not attaining, art. These articles are conspicuously sentimental, written with something approximating or imitating, but not attaining, thought.
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Last year, I went down very early but my mother always tells me to wait for the rest of the family. When they come down I open my presents and every year I like what every one gets me. At night we have a roast dinner usually chicken. During January and February My brother and I get another present from my uncle from Australia it's usually clothing or sometimes jewellery.
Certain rites and passages (the suffering servant in Isaiah, psalms of lament, wisdom literature on the suffering righteous person) seemed to fit the terrible events at the end of Jesus' life and so offered an answer to the why question. Understandably, these powerful images colored the entire story, including the meaning of Jesus' birth and life.
On the last day of school, I always give out Christmas presents and cards to my teacher and my friends in class. We always have a party the last day of the term and we play games.
• A wonderful Christmas memory.
• My favorite present I ever GAVE.
• Christmas shopping with my family.
• My favorite part of Christmas.
• Family time on Christmas.
• Christmas traditions in my family.
• The best Christmas ever.
• Funny happenings on Christmas day.
• Memorable presents.
An Irish friend kindly forwarded me an article from The Irish Times reporting on a school in County Dublin that, on St. Valentine’s Day, encouraged children to write Valentine cards to themselves. They were supposed to inscribe in them what they loved about themselves, on the theory that self-love is a precondition to success, happiness, and resilience, and should therefore be taught early and probably incessantly.
My view is that the head teacher of the school ought to be given hemlock to drink for corrupting youth, but I accept that some people might think this punishment a little severe. Indeed, there are some people—the author of the article among them, a psychotherapist—who think the promotion of youthful self-satisfaction and conceit an excellent idea, the key to the little ones’ future happiness.
The next day is Christmas day. At 9 am we get up and we go downstairs to take the goodies Santa has left for us. At 67 we go to our granny and grandads house for few hours and then we go home. At 7 some of our relations come over and we get some more presents. At 7 we go for a walk around town and when we come back and we get ready for bed. We have a drink and we go to bed.
Another loss of innocence occurs with Francie's run-in with a sex offender. Katie is prepared with a gun, and shoots the criminal, and Francie emerges relatively unscathed. Still, this is Francie's first experience with sex of any kind around this time, Francie also starts her period, and becomes more aware of the social taboos surrounding women's sexuality.
No person who had left school at the age of 67 could have written such a sentence, which of course is a very powerful argument for reducing, as a preventive measure, the age at which children leave school. No mere ignoramus, no child sent down the mines at the age of 6, could ever have uttered these words, which somehow manage to combine dogmatism with absence of clear meaning.