Got this last week from my uncle----who lives in Tennessee:
Why I Love Iowa at Christmas Time…..
When it’s Christmas time in Iowa, and the gentle breezes blow,
about seventy miles an hour and it’s fifty-two below.
You can tell you’re in Iowa ‘cause the snow’s piled up to your butt,
and when you take a breath of Christmas air
and your nose holes both freeze shut,
the weather here is wonderful, so I guess I’ll hang around……..
I could never leave Iowa….as my feet are frozen to the ground.
*****
And from Jim's cousin who lives in Cedar Rapdis:
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It was the day after Christmas at a church in San Francisco. The pastor of the church was looking over the cradle when he noticed that the baby Jesus was missing from among the figures of the nativity set. Immediately he turned and went outside and saw a little boy with a red wagon, and in the wagon was the figure of the little infant Jesus. He walked up to the boy and said, "Well, where did you get Him, my fine friend?" |