It’s sickening really.
Have you noticed how people are trying to drag religion in to Christmas?
I kind of thought it would happen.
He we all are having mighty craic wasting money buying shite and wrapping it up to give to people who don’t want it and some guy wearing a backwards collar tells us we should be giving money to the poor. Yeh well, if God’s that good why doesn’t he, eh?
And what’s wrong with getting pissed a few times at this time of year? Sure isn’t that what it’s all about?
We don’t need lectures from holy Joes telling us we should be ‘considerate’ whatever that means.
Christmas is craic, it’s fun, it’s party time. It’s giving it a lash, twelve pubs of Christmas, snoggin’ the blonde one from accounts at the office do and puking your ring up on the way home.
But what’s happening now? All these so-called Christians butting in telling us to think of the less fortunate. Yeh. I’ll think about them all right. And that’s me done.
Why do Christians think they own Christmas anyway?
Oh. Got it. It’s the “Christ` bit at the start of both words, isn’t it?
Yeh well ok. I suppose they can say what they like.
Christ. I remember learning about him in school before mum and dad took me out of religion class. Didn’t want me to be brainwashed like them, they said. I said, well if you don’t me to do religion you obviously weren’t brainwashed yourselves and they took my ‘phone off me for a week for being cheeky.
Anyway, let the holy Joes go on about…
Oh Jesus look over there. Couple of kids there with their mammy sitting on a piece of cardboard eating their dinner, feck’s sake.
And there’s a guy helping them, giving them hot drinks and stuff. Guy looks like a priest or something. Fair dues.
Think I have a fiver here…shit, only a tenner. Ah sure, still. It’s Christmas.
”Father, here, will this help?”
“Thank you. Bless you. Happy Christmas young man.”
Bless me. There y’are. More religion.
Ah well, I suppose they’re helping out.
“Are you busy father?”
“It’s brother. And yes, I always am. But we are called to do God’s work and that’s what we do.’
God. I was just wondering why he didn’t help and, well, maybe he is in a funny kind of way.
Still. Religion and Christmas.
Not sure it’s a great mix.
“Could you lend me a hand for a little while?”
“Sorry Father, I mean Brother I’m meeting some mates in the….ten minutes. I’ve ten minutes.”
I shouldn’t have. It’s ruining my Christmas. I mean how do we let people live like this for fuck’s sake? It’s doing my head in. Why do these people have to ruin their Christmas out here in the freezing cold dishing out food and blankets.
“Brother. Why do you do this? I mean, that’s what the government’s for.”
“I do it because God told me to. I’ve a feeling that’s not your thing, Well, look, even if it’s not, let’s just say that a man called Jesus, who gave his name to Christmas, told us to help the poor and to love our neighbour. I happen to think he was God, but it’s ok if you want to think of him as the first socialist.”
Low blow. I’m always telling people I’m a socialist and now…
“Ok brother. I’ll give you an hour and here, I’ve another tenner. If I’m missing an hour’s boozing I won’t need it!”
I hope none of me mates see me.
Oh God no, look at this lot coming in. Feckin’ rags they’re wearing. Did I just say Oh God no?
And do you know what`?
I actually feel better now than I think I would if I was skulling pints.
“Brother. You’ve got me. I’m going to call my mates I’ll stay as long as you need. I don’t believe all the God stuff but I know where you’re coming from.”
I actually wish my mates could see me. They’d die on the spot.
Then the brother says: “God works in mysterious ways son.”
He sure does.
I should be in the pub. But I’m here in the rain now, freezing cold, helping these kids I’ve never seen before in my life.
And do you know what? I feel good.
I think I’m going to have a happy Christmas.
Hope you do too.