I liked the way we used to do,
when cattle was plenty and folks was few.
The people gathered frum far and near, and
they barbequed a big fat steer.
The kids tried stayin’ awake because,
they reckoned they might ketch Santa Claus.
Next mornin’ you’d wake ’em up to see,
what he’d been and put on the Christmas tree.
It was Christmas then fer the rich and pore,
and every ranch was an open door.
The waddy that came on a company hoss
was treated the same as the owner or boss.
Nobody seemed to have a care,
you was in among frieds or you wasn’t there.
For every feller in them days knew
to behave hisself as a man should do.
I like to recall the Christmas night.
The tops of the mountains capped with white.
The stars so bright they seemed to blaze,
and the foothills swum in a silver haze.
Them good old days is past and gone.
The time and the world and the change goes on.
And you cain’t do things like you used to do
when cattle was plenty and folks was few.”
I like Kiskaddon, especially in this Christmas poem. Remember the way it was when you were a kid? Those Christmas days of the past sometimes get hazy. I can remember, going shopping on a brisk, snowy day and everyone you met would say “Merry Christmas.” We had those stereotypical “Silver Bells” types of days. It didn’t matter your social status on Christmas.
But time does bring change, and often not for the better. Craziness is all around and even on Christmas it is harder to keep it out of your mind. However, if you begin to notice a change in your heart, go watch “A Christmas Carol”, and if you can’t say “God Bless Us Everyone” then it might be time for a dose of figgy-pudding.