ImportantThings

The Day Santa Died                                         by Danny C. Wash It was a dark day in December 1955; the day my mother broke the news to me. “Santa is dead,” she said. Well, perhaps I remember it wrong. Maybe she didn’t say “Santa is dead.” But whatever she said, I knew that the jolly old elf had expired. He was no more. He was gone forever, so he might as well have died. Santa was now dead in my mind. For awhile, I had suspected something was amiss with the old bearded fat man. Dreaded thoughts slipped into my mind as to Santa’s health, but I didn’t want to face any realities along that line because of the loss of Santa’s faithful gift giving. I can remember the day I heard the news, like it was yesterday. My mother was hanging sheets on the clothesline. She brought up the subject of Santa Claus and I thought, “uh, oh” here it comes. And boy did it come, when the words left her mouth and Santa died right then and there. It was over, I had exited from the Santa Claus world t

Junk in the Trunk                                                                                 by Danny C. Wash Who put all this junk in my trunk? What can I do with all this stuff? This is just really a bunch of bunk. I have had just about enough. Who was the person who made this mess? The trunk of my car is not made for trash; whoever did this just needs to confess and clean this crap out of there in a flash. I think I know who loaded my trunk with this trash. I saw my brother hanging around my automobile; he saw me coming to my car & he ran away in a dash. I shouted to him as he ran, “you did it, you little heel. " I might as well clean up the big mess he has made, but what can I do with all of this junk and trash? I know how, I can turn this lemon into lemonade. I will have a trunk sale & turn his junk into my cash.

Why The Weeping Willow Weeps                                            By Danny C. Wash           A small palm tree by the river communicated with the weeping willow next to it through their roots deep in the ground, as trees do with each other. It asked the weeping willow why its leaves drooped toward the ground and why it was crying. The weeping willow replied, “In the beginning of the world, the Great Creator, who made everything, called my original ancestor a majestic tree in His book of life. My ancestor was the tree of life, the Creator planted in very center of  Eden and its limbs stood strong and tall loaded with the delicious fruit of eternal life on them. When Adam rejected the fruit of the tree of life and chose the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, my ancestor’s limbs went limp, fell downward, and then the tree began to weep and cry like me, so that his limbs and precious fruit started falling to the ground and left forever. The Great Creato

Flesh and Blood                                                   by Danny C. Wash Jesus said, “unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man  1 and drink His blood you have no life in  yourselves. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life and I will raise him up on the last day.”  2 What in the world does this mean? Are we to be vampires and cannibals?  This is a real shocker when you think about it. Jesus had just explained what this meant to the  people who were following Him around to get the bread and wine He had been creating for  them. Jesus intended to upset the hanger-ons for the food people by these shocking  statements. If they had been listening, He told them before this, that He was speaking about  spiritual blood and bread. “I am the bread of life...I am the living bread that came down out of  heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die.” The hanger-ons for the food dropped away because of the grossness of these statements about eating his body and blood.

Words Unsaid                                                        By Danny C. Wash As I lay here in the dark in my bed words come to me I’ve never said. Things perhaps I have muttered, thought, but never even uttered. Words can be like sharp arrows that when loosed from the bow and fly to their mark bring sorrow. There are words that we may throw that when said we can’t take away. But the words of which I speak today are the ones that need to be spoken, words of true love not yet conveyed to our loved ones these words unspoken. Will you give them as a goodbye or greeting perhaps, to those who hunger for your emotion. Our days are numbered, time is quickly fleeting for us to bless with our words of love and devotion.

Knocking On the Door                                                              by Danny C. Wash “ Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find;  knock and the door will be opened for you.” Matthew 7:7 I have been asking and seeking for sure; Now I have been knocking on the door for so long I feel I can do it no more. My knuckles are bloodied, battered & sore and my legs are tired & ready to hit the floor. You ask, why am I doing this if I am still unheard? On the other side of the door is an answer deferred, which my continued knocking should give access and would be a wonderful thing with which to bless all the people who are caught in this world’s deep mess. And I realize that the Bible says that Jesus is the door. So if I have been knocking to the One who won’t ignore, why has the door not opened to the I answer I need? Then I have the revelation that will cause me to succeed. His word in the Bible says that where two or more are gathered in His name that He w

Rub-a-dub-dub                                                                              (based on “Rub-a-dub-dub three men in a tub”)    by Danny C. Wash Rub-a-dub-dub, three dogs in a tub, all had nasty fleas, scrub-a-dub-dub, & now all are flea free. Rub-a-dub-dub, three kids in a tub, all did cry & whine scrub-a-dub-dub & now they all shine. Rub-a-dub-dub, grandpa in the tub, grandma used a brush scrub-a-dub-dub, & grandpa’s skin did flush. Rub-a-dub-dub, grandma in the tub, grandpa got the soap, to scrub-a-dub-dub, & grandma said nope.

The Land of the Lost and Forgotten                                    by Danny C. Wash There is a land of the lost and forgotten.   Have you ever been there?  Are you there now? You go to that land through a large door. The door is beautiful with a welcome sign.  The key to the door is the key of “Me” and “Self” The key opens the door and you are there in the blink of an eye. All you have to do is think about yourself all the time It’s easy but not free. It will cost you all your happiness. It’s very sad and quiet there. No one sees,  No one knows, no one cares. It is dimly lit and the sun never shines The curtains are all closed. The windows are painted shut. No one smiles in that land. It is forbidden. It is always cloudy with a chance of tears. All the colors are drab and dark. All the people there spend their hours in worry and Concentrate on themselves and their problems,  Frown often and think about how they have been hurt. Wait, you say, what if I want to leave, how do I? Well,

Summer Heat                                                                                           by Danny C. Wash It’s hot, not a little, but a lot. It may be the hottest summer ever. Time to turn down the old thermostot (I know it is thermostat; however, that doesn’t rhyme, so it’s all I got.) It’s 100 & summer is going on forever. It’s also hot inside & the A/C is shot. Oh, when will it rain, maybe never. Next January, I promise if the freeze is uncontrolled, I won’t complain, Lord, about the cold weather but could you just save a little of the extra cold to use in the summer & that would be the best ever.

Secrets                                                                          by Danny C. Wash                                           “One who goes about as a slanderer reveals secrets,  but one who is trustworthy conceals a matter.”  Proverbs 11:13 A secret is a bit of private information given to hold in trust by another those words inside them forever. A secret can be a fire that burns in us and urges to be told which we must resist this temptation and reveal it never. A secret is recreated each time it is given to someone   but it is no longer a secret to those that again let it go and becomes a breach of the trust that was given to that one. The broken trust that the telling one commits when doing so can break up a friendship ruining the life or the reputation of the one whose secret is exposed and cause much vexation. But when curiosity learns of a secret, it is aroused from its slumber and is like a hungry cat that can no longer rest until it has dined upon the delicious