A Rash of Appendix Problems
Lately, it seems as if several friends and loved ones have been besieged by that contrary little organ known as the appendix.
First, a tenant in one of the buildings I manage suffered an attack, and the surgeon caught it before it ruptured, and he is on the mend.
Then my stepson, otherwise in excellent health, began to feel nauseous and couldn't seem to get warm, and his appendix actually did burst, and so he is still recovering in the hospital and is expected to be there another four to five days.
Lastly, my sister is experiencing many of the same symptoms that my stepson had . . . I am trying to get her to detoxify her system with a colon cleanse, since it is believed that problems with the appendix can be traced to an over toxic colon.
If you think you have appendix problems, I highly recommend that to you also . . . and one of the best is Sonne #7 combined with Sonne #9, available in health food stores.
Plus drink lots of water to flush the system, and add organic lemon juice and/or apple cider vinegar, as well.
The Guest
by Leo Tolstoy
It happened one day at the year's white end,
Two neighbours called on an old-time friend
And they found his shop so meager and mean,
Made gay with a thousand boughs of green,
And Conrad was sitting with face a-shine
When he suddenly stopped as he stitched a twine
And said, "Old friends, at dawn today,
When the cock was crowing the night away,
The Lord appeared in a dream to me
And said, "I am coming, your guest to be."
So I've been busy with feet astir,
Strewing my shop with branches of fir,
The table is spread and the kettle is shined
And over the rafters the holly is twined.
And now I will wait for my Lord to appear
And listen closely so I will hear
His step as He nears my humble place
And I open the door and look in His face."
So his friends went home and left Conrad alone,
For this was the happiest day he had known,
For, long since, his family had passed away
And Conrad had spent many a sad Christmas Day
But he knew with the Lord as his Christmas guest
This Christmas would be the dearest and best.
So he listened with only joy in his heart,
And with every sound he would rise with a start
And look for the Lord to be standing there
In answer to his earnest prayer.
So he ran to the window after hearing a sound,
But all that he saw on the snow-covered ground
Was a shabby beggar whose shoes were torn
And all of his clothes were ragged and worn.
Conrad was touched and went to the door
And he said, "Your feet must be frozen and sore,
I may have some shoes in my shop for you
And a coat that will keep you warmer, too."
So with grateful heart the man went away,
But as Conrad noticed the time of day
He wondered what made the dear Lord so late
And how much longer he'd have to wait.
Then he heard a knock and ran to the door,
But again it was only a stranger once more,
A bent, old woman with a shawl of black
A bundle of branches piled on her back.
She asked for only a place to rest,
But that was reserved for Conrad's Great Guest.
Yet her voice seemed to plead, "Don't send me away;
Let me rest for awhile on Christmas Day."
So Conrad brewed her a steaming cup
And told her to sit at the table and sup.
But after she left he was filled with dismay,br>
For he saw that the hours were passing away,
And the Lord had not come as He said He would.
Conrad felt sure he had misunderstood.
When out of the stillness he heard a cry,
"Please help me and tell me, where am I?"
So again he opened his friendly door
And stood disappointed as twice before,
It was only a child who had wandered away
And was lost from her family on Christmas Day.
Again Conrad's heart was heavy and sad,
But he knew he should make this little child glad,
So he called her in and wiped her tears
And quieted all her childish fears
Then he led her back to her home once more
But as he entered his own darkened door,
He knew that the Lord was not coming today
For the hours of Christmas had passed away.
So he went to his room and knelt down to pray
And he said, "Dear Lord, why did You delay,
What kept you from coming to call on me,
For I wanted so much Your face to see."
Then soft in the silence a voice he heard,
"Lift up your head, my son, for I kept my word.
Three times My shadow crossed your floor
Three times I came to your lonely door
For I was the beggar with bruised, cold feet,
I was the woman you gave to eat,
And I was the child that was lost in the street."
This appeared in a Tampa, Florida newspaper:
"Will we still be the Country of choice and still be America if we continue to make the changes forced on us by the people from other countries that came to live in America because it is the 'Country of Choice'?"
"Think about it! All we have to say is, when will they do something about my rights?
"I celebrate Christmas . . . but because it isn't celebrated by everyone . . . we can no longer say "Merry Christmas." Now it has to be "Season's Greetings" or "Happy Holidays."
"It's not Christmas vacation, it's Winter Break. Isn't it amazing how this winter break always occurs over the Christmas holiday?
"We've gone so far the other way, bent over backwards to not offend anyone, that I am now being offended. But it seems that no one has a problem with that."
This says it all!
