Columns/Opinions

Bah Humbug!
When the kids are little and there are tons of presents under the tree, Christmas is so much different than when the kids are all grown. There is the excitement in the air as they go to bed on Christmas Eve anxiously awaiting the next morning, wondering what Santa would bring them during the night. There is the joy for parents as we watch our little babies tear into their gifts and see the happy smiles on their faces and the shrieks when they open that one gift that you know is going to be “the big one.”
For me, the way I felt when my kids opened their gifts on Christmas morning gave me a sense of happiness that lasted for days. As a parent, our mission should be to make our kids happy. Along with raising them to one day be responsible, well-adjusted adults, I just have always thought that their happiness was of the utmost importance.

by Pam Kumpe

She was an old woman that had seen so much and endured so much and the way she died was brutal, heartless, and unnecessary.
You could say she was tortured, but that really doesn’t describe the method of how she came to her end, clinging to the hope that someone would rescue her or knock down the walls that surrounded her and save her at the last minute.
But no one came.
As she lay dying, she recalled the days of her youth. The days and years of struggle that were still filled with the joy of youth, the thrill of adventures, and the hope of things to come. She was born in the days of a new beginning. The land she knew as a child was one that was filled with hardships, but those hardships were countermanded by the victories.

I would like to thank the young men and women who took time out of their life to make cards for our veterans. My husband was in the nursing home the day he got those cards and he loved them. They helped him feel better and as his wife I cried to think children were still caring about America’s freedom and that they wanted to thank the men who made it possible.
The day we came home from the nursing home, the first thing my husband said was, “Did you get my cards the kids sent me?”
So again, I want to thank you all for making a lot of veterans know they are still loved and not forgotten. May God bless each and every one of you all.

Signed,
A very grateful vet and his wife,
Frankie and Terry Geraldon
Dallas, Texas

by Pam Kumpe

Would you be thankful if you were living in a tent, eating whatever you could find, and having no family to share the day with this Thanksgiving?
The last few weeks have seen so much bitterness and bickering in the United States. Protests and rioting have filled the streets, social media has been a constant drone of negativity, and the prevailing sentiment has been one of anger, separation and selfishness.
How can it be that in the United States, a country where it is the norm to sit around on Thanksgiving Day and eat way too much while we lounge around and watch football all day, that we find so much to complain about.
My generation, us baby boomers over the age of 50, would like to point fingers at the kids, the millennials, and say things like, “they think they are entitled” or “they don’t know how easy they have it” and a plethora of other derogatory remarks aimed at placing blame.

By Rev Tommy Earl Burton
Tapp UMC
New Boston, Texas

This morning I saw a political ad on social media. It was the best ad for any candidate I have seen to date, and it finally convinced me of who I was going to put my stamp of approval on for this election.

The ad wasn’t filled with a long diatribe of information or propaganda. It was not some meme with misinformation or hatespeak. It didn’t feature anything about tax reform, deleted emails, inappropriate conduct, or anything else of a negative nature.

It was simply a candidate, posed for a picture, with a bold heading. Finally, with just a week to go, I have a candidate that I think is worthy of winning the election based on moral values, good character and honesty.

There has been a lot said recently about our Freedom of Speech. We all know that it is one of the bedrock freedoms that were laid out in stone by our nation’s forefathers and it is one that has largely set us apart from other nations around the globe.
Well, it used to anyway.
Our great country, one that was once heralded as the greatest country in the world, is likely no longer the owner of that title. We have stood by and let politics, complacency and downright apathy erode away at the foundation until we find ourselves now teetering on the brink of collapse. While it is still a great place to call home, and I personally would not want to live anywhere else, the country that once was is no longer, and it is no one’s fault but our own.

By Pam Kumpe

I get caught up in things that weigh me down. I'm not talking about the kind of chains used to pull a car from the mud or a four-wheeler from a ditch. The chains that hold me down are the invisible ones linked around my neck and my heart. 

My chains consume precious energy and cloud my thoughts. The links flow into my veins, move to my arteries, and clog my heart. When this happens, I can barely breathe. And yes, invisible chains hurt as if they’re real.

They keep me bound to the yuck, glued to doubt and worry. I get trapped in the murkiness of those thoughts, unable to rid them from my mind. I lug them around in my invisible wheelbarrow. 

Now you can't see the chains and you can't hear them clanking, either. You don't even know I'm gasping for air on certain days, and you have no idea what’s causing me to bleed with sadness. But I’ll tell you, I get stuck! I'm like caked mud!