Every so often the Angel on your shoulder whispers. It’s a gentle voice, rather more like an unexpected thought,¬† a coaxing, out of the blue. It visits anyplace, rain or shine, during quiet times or noisy occasions. You have come to depend on it, to have faith in it. Which brings you to the most recent occasion — when, between pushups 30 and 31, the name Nanny McPhee appeared out of the blue. However, just as quickly as she arrived, Nanny withdrew, unable to compete with your tricep pain. But 24 hours later, she was back. You visualized her comical, buck tooth and the unsightly wart. Think. What is it you remembered about her? She is sent to deal with impossible situations — with chaos. What else? Something important. Yes, she operates with compulsory rules of engagement.

“When you need me, but do not want me, then I must stay.

When you want me, but no longer need me, then I have to go.”

Nowhere is this angel needed more than in the sickest, most corrupt, most chaotic place in America. That would be Washington D.C., home of the Federal Government of the United States. Without a doubt, Nanny would never be engaged by America’s rulers — for two simple reasons. The rulers don’t want her and don’t value anything she’s selling — which is a lot of drippy nonsense called honesty, morality, virtue, character, decency — or in a word — goodness. Understandably, not one trait exists in a cesspool. This harsh condemnation, however justified, is unseemly in this season of reverent celebration. But that’s a funny comment coming from you. Is that what you really think, or was Nanny’s appearance really meant for you? Maybe she’s telling you to crawl out of the self-made prison of your grim, cynical mindset. Crawl out to see the goodness she’s selling. It’s everywhere. Millions of people who follow the Golden Rule. Americans from all walks of life who do honest work to support their families and communities. First responders who answer the calls 24-7. See the skilled hands who grow crops, build cities, heal the sick and protect the vulnerable. Above all, give thanks for the most generous people on earth — people who still believe in America’s enduring ideals. Believe in your fellow Americans and, whatever you do,¬† don’t give up on them. Especially now. But keeping your chin up doesn’t mean sticking your head in the sand. You and all lovers of goodness have an obligation to unmask those who would cripple a nation and its people. The Federal Government has over 4,000,000 civil workers, including all elected officials. Among them are a number of highly placed evildoers — not your dime-a-dozen sinners — but arch criminals who have subverted America’s charter and are responsible for the death and devastation of millions of Her citizens. These are not cruel allegations based on a mindless prejudice. Nanny would be the first to ask you to open your mind to Truth and Reason, and likewise open your heart to a better Tomorrow for all people. In that spirit, you reach out to those, like you, who need a lift during dark days. Perhaps a visit by an Angel.

In that spirit . . . . . . . .

“Tonight, I want to tell you
the story of an empty stocking.
Once upon a midnight clear
there was a child’s cry.
A blazing star hung over a stable
and wise men came with birthday gifts.
We haven’t forgotten that
night down the centuries.
We celebrate it with
stars on Christmas trees,
with the sound of
bells and with gifts –
but especially with gifts.
You give me a book. I give you a tie.
Aunt Martha has always
wanted an orange squeezer
and Uncle Henry could
do with a new pipe.
Oh, we forget nobody
– adult or child.
All the stockings are filled.
All, that is, except one.
And we have even
forgotten to hang it up.
The stocking for the
child born in the manger.
It’s His birthday we’re celebrating.
Don’t let us ever forget that.
Let us ask ourselves what
He would wish for most
and then let each put in his share.
Loving kindness, warm hearts…
and a stretched-out hand of tolerance.
All the shining gifts
that make peace on earth.”

Acknowledgment: Leonardo Bercovici  and Robert E. Sherwood (screenwriters) Circa 1947




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