"We sometimes feel that children must belong to a union, dedicated to the proposition that the year fly by swiftly, to shorten the period between Yule season. Whenever we near this time, adults share the warm glow and enthusiasm with their respective offspring and love for fellowmen is all apparent. What a wonderful time of the year is this. Each individual wants to shout his Merry Christmas from the highest pinnacle, regardless of his position or financial status. This is one season everyone enjoys. It's a period that finds everyone extending happiness to others. Don't you enjoy the tenderness your family group experiences while caroling merrily? No matter how you try, you'll never find an inner peace to equal the one you sense during Christmas. Nothing is quite so cheerful or awe-inspiring as the family tree, adorned with all its sparkling decorations and emblazoned with colorful lights that wing their cognizance of your delight. Yes, this is a grand and glorious time that stimulates unity among fellow humans and makes a person believe he could live happily for all times, if this seasonable disposition could but prevail throughout the entire year. Remember to attend your respective churches, to give thanks for your many blessings . . . We extend to you the wish that yours will be the happiest of holiday seasons. Share your bounty, whatever its size, and forget your tribulations for just a little while. This is your 24 hour inheritance of peace and contentment - and that's for sure."

"Christmas means many things to many people. In Hollywood as all over the world, it is a time of giving and rejoicing.

I asked Lou Costello how he would celebrate Christmas this year, and now that he had sold his North Hollywood estates and lives on a ranch. Lou has always decorated his place for all of the people who care to see it. And it was something to see. Last year he spent almost $5,000 in the decor with not only Santa on the roof, but Santa in making childhood dreams come true. Thousands of people who come to Los Angeles, as well as the Angelinos take a drive out to Lou's place to share his Christmas. so what now?

'It will be just the same,' Lou said. 'I'm going to decorate my sister's house - which is two blocks from our former home. We decorate the first of December, and I will be there every night as usual. Of course we'll have a family Christmas here at the ranch, but I'll still make it over there. I wouldn't disappoint those kids who come to see Christmas for nothing.'

Ruth Burch is one of the more important casting directors in the movie business. I asked her what Christmas meant at a studio - her studio, the Hal Roach lot, which has been convert into TV, and where she casts for four to eight top shows. 'It is the usual office party and gaiety, and a little more,' she said. 'You find yourself sharing everyone's problems and happiness and wistfulness. At this time I wish I had a thousand more roles to offer, so that many who want to work could make the more money for their Christmas budget. There is one Christmas I shall never forget. That was when we were making movies full length on this lot. Patsy Kelly and Thelma Todd's body was found in her ole Landis were the big stars. You may recall that a few days before Christmas, Thelma Todd's body was found in her car, and to this day the tragedy remains a mystery, as to whether she was murdered. She was beautiful and life loving, and on Christmas eve 30 beautiful Christmas gifts from her were given out at the studio. She had wrapped each one glamorously and had written the cards, and they'd been ready before her death. She had chosen gorgeous gifts - clocks, watches, jewelry, for she was generous. But it made us all feel sad and strange to be opening gifts that she had planned so joyously and after her death.'

Most of us like to stay home for Christmas or go home and be with those we love - our family and our closest friends. But there are thousands of us who don't have anyone close, and Christmas would be lonely if it were not for those of us who chose to bright it. How? by just our presence and in sharing our lift and laughter and joy of the Christmas Spirit.

I am thinking of last Christmas Eve. the Veterans Hospital in San Fernando Valley for T.V. Vets of the last three wars including the current Korean conflict, were expecting five movie and celebrity guests to their Christmas party. The Red Cross had decorated the hospital with beautiful trees. Civic clubs had sent wondrously wrapped packages. And while most of the patients are bed cases, and can't even walk out to the corridors to see the Christmas trees, nor the big tall spruces lighted outside on the grounds, they knew it was Christmas all right. And on Christmas Eve there was to be a party and guests. The year before Stan Jones (who wrote Ghost Riders in the Sky and so many other hits) had put on a big show for them. And they listened to it on their bedside radios. Later the celebrities had trooped from room to room through the vast hospital of 500 patients. Everyone was happy that they had not been forgotten by the people outside, nor the people outside that they had not forgotten the people inside - who are there only by fate and destiny.

Then came last Christmas Eve. Everyone in the hospital wore their newest pajamas or their new robes. for they were going to greet guests. All of the big names who'd promised to return didn't show up. I was the only to keep the promise to come back on Christmas Eve. And I saw the polite disappointment in their faces,, and how they covered it up to make me feel that they were glad that I came even though I was not a big name. I told them I too had no one to spend Christmas Eve with, since it my custom on Christmas Day to gather up all of the people in Hollywood who have no one close, to my house for turkey and a Christmas tree. so there I was and they voted me the Sweetheart of the Hospital. A title of which I am mighty proud. And some of the patients who could and who had a camera took pictures. We were all gay. but I made up my mind that they would have celebrities too. They watch TV by the day and hour and minute. What else can they do to forget the ravages of disease or the long convalescence.

I promised I would return with stars and I did. A week later with the help of Don DeFore we rounded up Elena Verdugo, Hal March, Corinna Mura, artist Jean Appleton, David Street, Sharon Lee, and later Gregory Peck, Adele Mara, Ilona Massey, Hollywood's Mayor Bernstein, and many, many more. and now they know they are not forgotten.

You can always count on Hollywood and show people when they are needed. They will always turn aside personal pleasures to help. This Christmas and this New Year, if you want to make yourself happy, call me and go out to see the Veterans at the hospital. If not my hospital, plan to visit some hospital. Let the folks know you love them, and they are not forgotten. You know, it might have been you but for the grace of God. Merry Christmas and a Happy Happy New Year!

"Whenever I see a flurry of sand whirling and darkening the Las Vegas sky, my mind swirls back to childhood years in Keysport when I used to squirm in the warmth of our small house and watch the snow at blizzard strength painting the ILlinois farmland a milky white.

Like all people who enjoy reminiscing about the 'the good old days,' I can only say that mine were not as good as memory would have it. My boyhood days were spent fighting poverty and gazing wistfully at the more prosperous neighbor kids who seemed to be sharing the better things of life which always, somehow or other, managed to escape our family.

I was discussing all of this the other day with my brother, Harold, as we made plans to have my mother, my sister and other members of the family come up from San Diego for New Year's Day at my new home on the Desert Inn Golf Course. It is hard for me to believe that the wonderful things which have come my way in Las Vegas are truly real. I have a home which I believe to be a perfect residence for Toni and myself. It incorporates everything that I always wanted when I was a hungering youngster. The joyful prospect of having my people enjoy the first day of 1956 in this home more than makes up for the years in which my wife and I yearned for just such a place but never quite made it.

At this Holy time, when the litany of the heralding angels urges peace on earth to men of good will', I feel that we who happen to have been fortunate enough to prosper in the material way of life should share happily with those to whom the world has not been so good.

There are many worth-while charities in Las Vegas all of which deserve the financial support of the comjunity. In wishing you a Merry Christmas and a Joyous New Year, may I suggest that you can make this time merrier for yourself and more joyful for someone else by giving to the needy? This is the most blessed thing one man can do for another."

MRS. BIPPLE: Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas!
FANCHONE: Come in, Mrs. bipple, Happy Christmas to you and to women all over the world. to their families, to all children, to our neighbors, our friends, and to all mankind. May this Yuletide bless you and bring you your heart's desire.
MRS. BIPPLE: My gracious sakes alive! Who's this coming thru the door?
FANCHONE: Honey - it's Santa Claus! Mister 1955 Santa Claus!
SANTA CLAUS: Diggy, diggy Christmas, gals! Just flew in from Las Vegas. That desert mecca is so ablaze with glitter and lights, thought I'd better see if any had been left for Hollywood.
FANCHONE: You have a colossal nerve, Mister 1955 Santa. The other Santa Claus Misters have all known about our Santa Claus Lane in Hollywood. Movie stars and radio celebs, wonderful sleighs, bands - why Santa Claus Lane is known all over the world!
MRS. BIPPLE: Oh, pass him a chocolate doughnut. He can't be the real Santa Claus. This gentleman is fireproof, plastic decorated, and wears orlon. Gracious sakes alive. Maybe it's Abe Schiller in a new costume.
SANTA CLAUS: No, lady I'm not Abe schiller. You have been sitting too long under the mistletoe. You ladies refuse to admit that the 1955 Santa Claus is 1955 . . . and not an old one. That's because you both waste lovely hours in your rocking chairs, and are wearing the same poundage you did in 1954 . . . The world progresses! Have you?
MRS. BIPPLE: Personally, I don't wish to progress! It's too comfortable this way. I wouldn't trade my union suits for all of Bob Hope's Oscars. Gracious sakes alive, I remember when our Town Hall had a Christmas entertainment every Christmas Eve. All of Clarksburg turned out. A big tree, gifts which woman made, toys for the children. It was real entertainment!
SANTA CLAUS: It it's entertainment you want, FLV has it all year 'round. Do you know who appeared there during the last year?
FANCHONE: Sure, Me 'n Criswell!, and Bruce Barton Cortez, the year before that. He's the youngest Managing Editor in the world. His papa publishes Fabulous.
SANTA CLAUS: I was speaking of famous show people.
FANCHONE: You tell Mrs. Bipple, while I run kitchenward and stir the Holly.
MRS. BIPPLE: Can you name all of them?
SANTA CLAUS: Goodness, no! But a few who appeared there included Joe E. Lewis, Eartha Kitt, Billy Gray, The Mills Brothers, Sophie Tucker, Peggy Lee, Martin & Lewis, Fred Waring, Jimmy Durante, Ted Lewis, The Ritz Brothers, Helen Traubel, Tommy & Jimmy Dorsey, Anna Maria Alberghetti, Dennis Day, Jane Powell, Rosemary Clooney, Jeff Chandler, Rose Marie, Sons of the Pioneers, Danny Thomas, The Ink Spots, Harold Stern & His Violins; Patti Page, The Clark Brothers, Antonio Morelli, Jack E. Leonard, Teddy Phillips & His Orchestra, Darvas & Julia, Dave Barry, Phyllis Ponn, Lillian Roth, Ted Fio Rito & His Orchestra, Donn Arden Dancers, Carlton Hayes & His Orchestra, Cee Davidson & His Orchestra, Jerry Fielding & His Orchestra, The Treniers, Hank Penny, Little Jack Little, Ray Bolger, Mindy Carson, Sherman Edwards, Andy Mayo and Pansy the Horse, Murel Landers and Jack Prince, Liberace, George Liberace and His Orchestra, Ray Sinatra and His Orchestra, Guy Lombardo, Dagmar, Garwood Van and His Orchestra, Billy Daniel, Lillian Roth, Nite-liters, The Kats and Kittens, Allen and DeWood, Sherman Hayes and His Orchestra, Johnny Ricardo, Dorothy Dandridge, Romo Vincent, Maureen Cannon.
FANCHONE: Breathe, Mister Santa, breathe!
SANTA CLAUS: There was Marilyn Maxwell, Xavier Cugat, Abbe Lane and Gale Storm, Sammy Davis, Jr., Will Mastin Trio, Noel Coward and Lili St. Cyr, Austin Mack, Hildegarde and Vera-Ellen, Bert Wheeler, Tony Martin, Anne Southern, Martha Raye, Peter Lind Hayes and Mary Healy, Lou Monte, Mickey Rooney, Kathy Kallen and Tallulah Bankhead, Jane Froman, Harry Belafonte, Harry Mimo and the DeCastro Sisters, the Five Platters, the Goofers, Kay Starr, the Jones Boys and Joey Bishop, Dorothy Collins, Georgia Gibbs, Larry Parks, Jackie Miles, Frankie Laine, Marguerite Piazzi, and Keefe Braselle, Jack Carson, Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy, Connie towers and Nat King Cole, The Original Four Guys, Gar Van, Tony & Eddie, Billy Eckstine, Teresa Brewer, Gordon MacRae, and Lena Horne, Marie Wilson, Vaughn Monroe, and Polly Bergen, Hilo Hattie, Sam Levenson, Imogene Coca, Julius LaRosa, Red buttons, the Ames Brothers, Mati & Hari, Ben Blue, Myron Cohen, Morty Gunty, Woody Woodbury, and Dick Haymes, The Kings IV, Nick Lucas, Eddie Peabody, and Francois and Gizelle Szony, Giselle Mackenzie, Robert Merrill, Louis Armstrong, Pearl Bailey, Dick Contino, Les Brown, Herb Shriner, Kathryn Grayson, Guys and Dolls, The Vagabonds, Lenny Gale, Herb Jeffries, Jerry Murad's Harmonicats, Paul Gilbert, Jimmy Ames, Nelson Eddy, Paul Gilbert, Billy Ward & his Dominoes, Marilyn Harvey, and George Kirby, Johnny Ray, the Marx Brothers, Jose Greco and Dorothy Shay, Teddy Noell and His Orchestra, Harry Ranch and the Gang, Marion Marlowe, and Lena Horne, Jimmy Desmond, Spike Jones, Lionel Hampton, Sauter Finnegan Orchestra, Phil Spitalny, Larry Storch, Marlene Dietrich and Mae West, Howard Keel, Frank Sinatra, Al Bernie, Dinah Washington, and . . . Let me have a Rocking Chair, girls! There are a thousand more names of wonderful entertainers who have played Las Vegas this year of 1955. Even the modern Santa Claus can't take time to name all.
FANCHONE: We wish each and every one of them a wonderful Christmas and a successful and happy New Year, don't we, Mrs. Bipple?
MRS. BIPPLE: Gracious sakes alive, yes. These show folks makes everybody happy. Listen someone's singing -
MUSIC: 'White Christmas'.
SANTA CLAUS: The great Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. The man whose voice has entered the homes, the hamlets, the mines, the jungles, the islands - whose voice, recording this song, has been heard on the id-ocean, in the highest mountain cabins, in far-away light houses, in lonely Army Outposts, by lovers as they sat before fireplaces, by mothers, lonely; by men on cold street corners, hungry, alone; and as the music faded away, thousands of other voices, like a gigantic chorus - resang the song Mr. Crosby made famous - a song which has brought tears from long dry eyes; which has unearthed memories too long covered in rockbound hearts; which has motivated charity toward 'the least of these', when other songs and melodies failed.
FANCHONE: Yes, I recall weeping in 1943 when I heard a little 10 year old boy sing that song in a night club in Washington, D.C. A little guy, now grown, but who is still dreaming of a White Christmas, rather than the heartbreaking ones he has endured. What can we give to folks like these and men, like Crosby and Como, who have used their talents to bring the world so much?
SANTA CLAUS: Wrap a special prayer for them; a Christmas prayer to ease heartbreak, keep them happy, lessen pain, and renew hope. Seal the package with gratitude.
FANCHONE: What do you have in that big cellophane pack, Mister Santa Claus of 1955? Something in it seems to be wiggling.
SANTA CLAUS: Ha! ha! You have asked the $64,000 question, gal!
MRS. BIPPLE: Be careful that dear Groucho's Duck doesn't crack you on the head, or maybe it's Donald Duck?
FANCHONE: Please open the pack, Santa Claus. If you do, we'll fix you a dinner of white meat from the breasts of Texas Bronze Turkeys, and let you see a picture of the million dollars on display in Joe W. Brown's Horseshoe Club in FLV.
SANTA CLAUS: OK. Quiet, everyone. Let nothing stir, not even a mouse (Santa opens package from Reindeer Helicopter).
FANCHONE: On, no, oh, no! Look, Mrs. Bipple, All of these Santa Claus Misters from other years! Oh, not really! Look at this darling little old Santa from, let's see, sure each one has his year on a card on his coat. This one was Santa Claus in the year 1853. May we talk with them, Mr. Santa, 1955, dear? Are you thrilled, Mrs. Bipple?
MRS. BIPPLE: No, because I think they're merely something you conjured from those old books in your kitchen cupboard. Gracious sales alive, Franchon, why can't you keep spices and cornstarch where it belongs and not books in the flour bin?
FANCHONE: Et, tu, thou gross materialist! Whom did you hope would walk out of the Christmas package?
MRS. BIPPLE: Oh, someone like the owners of the dunes, the Sands, The Riviera, Wilbur Clark's Desert Inn, the El Rancho Vegas, the Flamingo, the Sahara, the New Frontier, the Royal Nevada, the Silver Slipper, the Stardust, the El Cortez Hotel, the Moulin Rouge, the Golden Nugget, Matty's Tropics, the Westerner, the Showboat, Market Town, and a few other places in --
FANCHONE: Yes, I know, in Fabulous Las Vegas. But even at Christmas time we can't just reach out and snatch ourselves a package of attractive men, Listen, deary, we Have Santa Claus men have now.
MRS. BIPPLE: And, as Jack Cortez says, "That's for sure" Can they sing?
SANTA CLAUS: Or course, they can sing. Each Santa Claus knows the Christmas song of his year and generation. Some of the oldest Christmas songs are still our most popular ones. What do you say, Santas? What about a chorus of all the Yuletide songs, I know. Because a 1955 Santa just must sing along with you.
ALL SANTA CLAUS MEN: Sure, we shall all sing. Sing the beauty of Christmas here, and the Yule to English speaking countries; the Noel Noel greetings to France; Sheng Dan Jieh happiness to China; Noche Buena joys to Spain; Merry Weichnachten in Germany, and peach on earth to all nations. Join us, Santa of 1955, in these songs as old as time, and in traditions which never give way to complete modern progress.
ALL SANTAS SING: 'O come, all ye faithful, triumphantly sing' - 'Ava Maria', 'Hark, the Herald Angles Sing', 'We Three Kings of Orient Are', 'O Little Town of Bethlehem'! How still we see thee lie. Above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by, 'God Rest Ya Merry Gentlemen', 'While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks', 'Hark what mean those lovely voices', 'Angels from the Realms of Glory', 'Sing oh Sing This Blessed morn', 'Silent Night, Holy Night', and now the oldest of Christmas Songs we know. The words written in the 5th Century and the melody in the 13th Century. The title - 'Of the Father's Love Begotten.'
FANCHONE: Thank you, each and every Santa Claus from every year. Always you have brought happiness to many people. When I was seven one of you brought a ceiling-high tree, full of dolls. I shall never forget it. At 10, it was a fur scarf and muff with a pocketbook in it. How proud I was. And then that glorious year when we had Bob, Jr., and June, for toys and big tree, not to mention the Christmas that I landed Robert Sr. for a husband, and then came Patty and Loren, added, and now Jimmy and Marianne and Davy Crockett, the wee grandchildren, for this year's happiness. Of course we had our heartbreaks like millions of others, but always wish that we could share our inner thanks with those who have so little. And, you recent Santas have given us the opportunity through the great Salvation Army, the Community Chest, the Red Cross, and many other charitable agencies which seek out those so needy.
MRS. BIPPLE: Except that all of it just never seems to reach around, but it is a great thing!
SANTA CLAUS: Yes, we have these wonderful organizations which many of you other Santas never knew. We also have new wonder drugs not known in your day, those which save lives of millions of children, men and women; we have the miracle of radio and television, the motor cars, miraculous household inventions, utmost luxury in travel by auto, train, busses, planes, we can make many of the blind see again, many lame walk again. Medical Preventions to stop the spread of the horrible plagues of former years, oh, what a Christmas for the world! Yet, if each one of you will take one dollar and personally hand it to a tired, poor Mother, to a child, who has stopped to look at a Christmas window and has no hope for anything therein', a dollar given personally to one hungry man, woman or child, you will experience an inner happiness, long lasting in your heart. This, in addition to your annual donation to charity. If you do not have the dollar to spare, and some do not, give an hour of time, during the holiday season, to someone poorer in spirit than yourself. There are many.
FANCHONE: Oh, Santa of 1853, what did you take to folks at Christmas?
SANTA CLAUS 1853: Well, O took them magazines, one which told about the Ideal American Woman. No longer was she supposed to be 'born destitute of will, desire or aim of her own. No longer was she living, breathing, acting and suffering for only her husband and children. The fragile in form, tiny hands, fairy feet and silvery voice were going out. 'The former ideal woman was described thusly; She found her chief glory in making a shirt - her highest pleasure in compounding a pudding. That she watched her husband's looks, anticipating every wish, without the smallest expectation of any attention or sacrifice from him, in return. That she was utterly unable to frown, or to say no. That she waited for her lord and master till all hours of the night, cheerfully sewing on his buttons, and never reproaching him for being late, or asking where he had been. That she soothed his troubled brow, consoled him by her sympathy, cheered him by her smiles, divined his cares and sorrows, and bore with entire satisfaction any amount of exclusion from his pleasures; accepting every crumb of his company with gratitude.'
FANCHONE: Are you sure you're 1853, and not what the 1955 man wants in his argyle? Pardon me, Mister Santa. Continue.
SANTA CLAUS 1853: Grant, the pardon. The ideal American woman was born to be the humble contributor to man; to bear with his tempers, follow his fortunes, humor his whims, cater for his wants, watch over his illnesses, bring up his children, economize his means, promote his enjoyments, be wholly lost and swallowed up in him while he lived, and, if she survived him, be content with a pittance of his estate, or a condition of dependence, if it proved to have been his sovereign will and pleasure to leave the fortune she had helped to accumulate to posterity or to the public.' In 1953 the emancipation of women was starting.
MRS. BIPPLE: Well, I guess a watched pot never boils.
SANTA CLAUS 1853: The first great exhibition of art objects being held in New York City and known as 'The Crystal Palace.' This was the forerunner of the great World Fairs. There were thousands of bells in this gas-lighted Palace and at ten o'clock, (closing time), all clanged at one time, usually frightening half the visitors into hysteria. But it did clear this fabulous Palace of glass crystal lights, and beautiful imported statuary.
FANCHONE: Did any of you bring Mrs. Bipple a gift?
SANTA CLAUS 1670: Indeed, I did, from jolly old England. A recipe for plum cake and I ate my fill of it at Christmas 1670. I shall read: 'To Make a Plum Cake'. Take a peck of flour and part it in half. Then take two quarts of good ale yeast and strain it into half the flour, and some new milk boiled, and almost cold again; make it into a very light paste and set it before the fire to rise. Then take five pounds of butter and melt it in a skillet with a quarter of a pint of rose water; when your paste is risen and your oven almost hot, which will be by this time, take your paste from the fire and break it into small pieces and take your other part of the flour and strew it round your past. Then take the melted butter and put it in the paste and by degrees work and past and flour together till you have mingled all very well. Take six nutmegs, some cinnamon and mace well beaten, and two pounds of sugar and strew it into the paste as they are a-working it. Take three pounds of raisins, stoned, and 12 pounds of currants very well washed and dried again; one pound of dates sliced; half a pound of dried green citron sliced very thin; strew all these into the paste till it has received all. Then let your oven be ready and make up your cake and set it in the oven; but you must have a great care it doth not take cold. Then to ice it, take a pound and half of double refined sugar beaten and searced; the whites of three eggs, laid new, and a little orange flower-water, with a little musk and ambergreece beaten and searced and put into your sugar. Then strew your sugar into the eggs and beat it in a stone mortar with a wooden pestel till it be as white as snow, which will be by the time the cake is baked. Then draw it to the ovens mouth and drop it on, in what form you will; let it stand a little again in the oven to harden.
FANCHONE: Imagine! Look, 1955 Santa, after hearing this recipe, please give our thanks and greetings to the Safeway Stores, Ralph's, the Thrifty and Owl Drug store, Market Town in Vegas, and all places where they sell plum cakes ready made!
MRS. BIPPLE: Mr. Cortez is shaking his head. We seem to be going off the air. Someone collect these Santa Claus men under that load of mistletoe. I'll have myself a Christmas celebration yet.
FANCHONE: That you will, Mrs. Bipple, for you were also born in Fabulous Las Vegas of 1955, and to everyone we wish a special Christmas and New Year blessing, and to all who read may, 'God Bless You Everyone.' Merry, Merry Christmas!"

"The story of the First Christmas according to St. Luke, Chapter 2, Verses 1 through 17:

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Ceasar Agustus, that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.

And Joseph went also up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem: (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

And so it was that, while they were there, the days were accomplished. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.

And the angel said unto them, Fear not; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.

And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us.

And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child.

Because the story of Christmas is so important and one that should be told correctly year after year until it becomes such a part of every man's and every woman's life and knowledge and customs, instead of my telling this story in my own words I have asked and received permission from the Augsburg Publishing Company of Minneapolis to quote from one of other American Annuals of Christmas Literature and Art titled simply Christmas and edited by Randolph E. Haugan. Each year they put out this lovely large book with some of the finest illustrations I have seen on the subject of Christmas and I suggest to any of my readers that are interested in getting copies of this book this year to give as gifts and for their own children they write directly to Augsburg Publishing Company in Minneapolis because this Christmas issue makes the finest possible gift that I have stumbled on in many a year.

Candles burn at Christmas time, casting their tender glow upon the Holy Child as Mary holds Him close. All nature bows in adoration to the King of Kings.

People of many lands bow down before Him, too. Not always are the melodies of their songs the same. Nor are their customs and traditions alike, but they all seek the Star that shone over the stable where Christ was born in Bethlehem. They all bring gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh. And the message of their songs whatever the language is 'Glory to god . . . and on each peace . . . '

Candles burn at Christmas time, casting their tender glow upon the Holy Child as Mary holds Him close. And nature bows in adoration to the King of Kings.

ENGLAND: their voices, strong and sweet, suddenly break forth outside the door. Lighted candles in the windows, that tell the story of the Christ-Child who wanders the fields and woods and streets at Christmas time, have led them here. for the candle is a symbol of both cheer and compassion. And any wayfarer, too, who seeks warmth and shelter on a winter's night is welcomed in the Christ Child's name.

So it was in England long ago, and so it is today. In early Britain wandering bards and harpers found their way to castles where their songs of chivalry filled the air. Later, the carolers, or 'waits' sang Christmas songs to the accompaniment of the harp and the fiddle and the flageolet. And still today, on city streets and village lanes, the age-old songs ring true and clear.

There is a song for the Yule Log ritual, when garlanded with greens it is triumphantly drawn to the house amid shouts of joy and laughter. Each member of the jolly group sits for a moment on the log, hums a bit of lilting carol, and salutes the log with a kiss - an assurance of good luck until another Christmas comes.

There are songs for Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, when newsboys, mail carriers, and servants go from house to house and receive gifts. There are songs when neighbors gather to taste each family's Yule Cake as it is ceremoniously cut. And legend tells us that the sweetest song of all is heard on Christmas Eve at midnight, when oxen in their stalls kneel in adoration of the Christ Child, and unseen choristers praise His Name.

SWEDEN: Down the winding stairway Saint Lucia comes. She wears a long white dress trimmed with gay colors and a red sash, and her halo is a crown of lighted candles at whose base bilberry twigs are intertwined. Price and joy are singing happy songs in her heart. For has she not been chosen 'the prettiest girl in the house?' And yet her pride is graced by humility, for on Saint Lucia's Day, December the 13th, she who is loveliest of all becomes the servant of all as she goes from room to room in her home at the first cock-crowing, singing the carols of her land and serving hot coffee and cakes to each one she awakens.

The first Saint Lucia, a maiden of the Roman Empire, for whom the day was named, lived long ago in the city of Syracuse on the island of Sicily. As the day approached that should have been her wedding day, the story goes, she gave her dowry to poor Christians whose courage shown like a beacon light in her pagan world. Her defiant fiance informed officials that Lucia was a Christian, and the Emperor Diocletion condemned her to be burned at the stake. But though the fire was all about her she remained unharmed, until finally her heart was pierced by a sword. The people of Sweden chose to make her their heroine, and through the years they have sun her praise and honored her day.

Although the preparations for the festive holiday begin as early as the first day of December, it is the celebration of Saint Lucia's Day that ushers in the Christmas season. What planning! What cleaning! What baking! The curtains must be fresh and white. The copper must gleam brilliantly. food must be prepared. Gifts must be made and wrapped and sealed with red sealing wax. And the house must be scoured from top to bottom, for dust, like sinful thoughts, cannot be tolerated during the Holy Season.

Saint Lucia's Day! Festival of lights! Day for beginning the journey to the lowly manger where the Father of Lights lay that first Christmas Morn!

BAVARIA: Oh, the everlasting wonder of Tannebaum! Last year it could not have been move beautiful, it seemed. But this year its stars, its candles, its silver nuts, and its shining baubles are of matchless beauty. And beneath it our beloved Christmas Crib! Mother trimmed the Tree this afternoon and when the curtains were drawn back, there it stood in all its wondrous enchantment.

Twilight falls, the carols have been sung, and the Christmas supper is over. Then it is that an age-old custom is re-enacted in Bavaria when hundreds of marksmen, Schutzen, go from their small farms hidden deep in the valleys, up to their beloved mountains. Some of them journey three or four hours. Sometimes the wives and daughters of the farmers join them, too, all of them wearing colorful Bavarian costumes and carrying knapsacks of hand mortars Handboller. For everyone wishes to have a part in the tumultuous noise which, tradition says, protects the entire countryside, from evil or mischievous spirits which wander about on Christmas Eve. Half an hour before midnight the sky is a sea of fire as all guns and hand mortars are fired simultaneously, fireworks are lighted, and bonfires are kindled on the highest mountain peaks. but at midnight when the church bells ring, silence settles over the land, and the merry groups go down to the valley for the Christmas service.

Candles shine from every window to light the Kristkind on her way from home to home. She is the messenger of the Infant Jesus, and Bavarian children believe that she brings them their gifts. She wears a white robe. She has golden wings. In her hand she carries a small Christmas Tree. And the crown that she wears on her head was placed there by the Holy Child.

FRANCE: The air is filled with sweet Noels sung to le petit Jesus who lies in a manger. And song is mingled with the crunch-crunch of snow beneath wooden sabots and happy shouts and gay voices. For bringing home theYule Log is a joyous festivity.

Dressed in their holiday attire, the father and oldest son triumphantly lead the way pulling the newly cut log. Mother and the other children, from the oldest daughter to the tiniest son, follow, carrying garlands of fresh greens. And all is happiness and merriment.

In reverent ceremony the log is carried through the doorway by father and son. Three times the room is circled before the log is placed in the fireplace. And the time has come for the log to be lighted with a brand of last year's log. The throat tightens and the heart quickens a bit as the new log takes torch and glows - an emblem of the Light that came to earth when Christ as born.

A moment of tenderness falls. And bells peal out throughout the land as little children light the tri-colored candles of their creche in honor of the Trinity. Christmas has come!

POLAND: Fondly they carry their Christmas crib, the Szokka, from home to home through village streets. for does it not show their Treasure - the Infant Jesus adored by Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds? Some of the children carry bright burning candles. One clutches tightly the hand of a little sister who has perhaps been allowed to go along for the first time. Sometimes a large star in which a candle is burning is carried on top of a pole. But always there are songs. Songs for the Holy Festival of the Star!

After prayers are said on Christmas Eve, and when the first star appears in the evening sky, the Christmas feast begins. Straw is scattered on the floor or under the tablecloth, in remembrance of the stable at Bethlehem, and always a chair is drawn to the table for the Holy Child. Small wafers, Oplatek, which have been blessed by the church and marked with scenes of the Nativity, are given to everyone. Each one shares his wafer with every person at the table as a token of friendship and a symbol of peace on earth.

A ringing of the bell after the feast means that the gifts have arrived for the children. Mother Star, who is dressed like an angel in a white robe and veil, distributes the gifts after Father Star, who is a bit feared, listens to the children's prayers and catechism.

Legend tells us that this Holy Night the heavens open and those who have lived pure lives can see the vision of Jacob's ladder. And the animals who were honored by His presence on the first Christmas night are able to tell of wondrous things to be. Quaint and beautiful are the customs of Poland!

NORWAY: The birds' Christmas Tree! Dear to the hearts of the people of Norway is this custom. A Christmas feast for the animals and birds, since they were present at the Christ Child's birth in the stable. The cattle are given extra fodder, and all the beasts of the farm are given special care. Even Julenissen, the little elf-like creature who is a part of the household all through the year, though he is never seen as he helps with a task here and plays a mischievous trick there, is rewarded on Christmas eve.

But the birds especially are remembered. In the morning or in early afternoon bits of suet are hung on the snow -laden trees in the garden. And a choice sheaf of grain is tied to a pole near the house. Another may be placed near the gable of the barn, or tied to trees, fences, gateways, and house tops. The birds will have a Christmas dinner indeed!

When twilight falls an old carol for the lighting of the tree is sung as Mother lights the candles, and Father and the children encircle the tree singing:

Then Mother lights the Christmas tree,
And fills the room with light,
She says that so the Star shone forth,
And made the whole world bright.

Then over the land of deep fjords and frozen lakes, snow-clad mountains and fragrant pine-woods, bells from a thousand towers ring out the good news that Christmas has come. For an hour they ring, loudly, clearly, exultantly . . . kling-klang, kling-klang . . . and the darkness of night settles down. but candle lights in windows and lighted Christmas trees in every home tell that families are reunited for this dearest of seasons, and that joy is everywhere.

AMERICA: the new Christmas sled, wonder in the eyes of little children, mysterious gifts piled high, the glow of candlelight on faces of loved ones, mistletoe and holly, poinsettia, and winter greens, and families - reunited for this happiest of days - going to church on Christmas Morn. This is Christmas in America.

It is not like Christmas in any other land, for it is like Christmas in many lands. As children of other countries become children of America, they brought with them to their churches and homes in a new country rich treasures of custom and tradition. And into the pattern that is now American's Christmas have been woven colorful threads of bits of Christmas from everywhere.

Carols from England, Saint Lucia celebrations from Sweden, the Christmas tree from Saxony, the Yule Log from France, the Christmas Crib from Poland, the birds' Christmas tree from Norway. These, and many more delight traditions, are now a part of Christmas in America.

Bells ring at Christmas time throughout the world from great cathedral towers, from belfries of the country church and men are called in every clime to bow in worship to the Christ of Bethlehem. Bells ring at Christmas time: Their song, a carol true, rings loud and clear - Christ is born!

My hobby is 'scrapbooking' and in the past several years I have filled some 14 or 15 of them, one of them on love and friendship, saying, poems, stories and articles I liked on the 'boyology' theme that I have used from time to time in my boy scout, YMCA, and camp work amongst boys. I quote below a Letter to Santa that was written long ago by someone I do not know, but it had meant much to me and I hope it will mean much to all of my readers too:

Dear Santa Claus:

When I was a boy I used to write you a letter every Christmas telling you all the things I wanted, and, as a rule, you brought them. When I didn't get all I asked for, I just thought you didn't have enough to go 'round, and knew that you did the best you could.

Much water has passed under the bridge since I wrote you last, but even though you have not heard from me in many years, I have not lost faith in you, Old Santa. Even though you are not a physical old who slips down the chimney on Christmas Eve, I believe in you, I have come to love that jolly, red face of yours. I am thrilled whenever I see it.

A lot of folks may laugh and scoff and say there is no Santa Claus, but that does not shake my faith in you. Of course, you are not a real human being, for humans die in a short span of years and are forgotten. but you, Old Santa, have been living for centuries, bringing joy and happiness to young and old. Your dear old face has become a symbol of unselfish love and devotion.

No, you're not a real human being; you're more than that - you're a spirit. And, to the end of the world, your name and that jolly, old face shall brighten the corridors of time, filling the hearts of the world with love, happiness, peace and sweet content.

so, Santa, this is a different letter from others I have written. I am not asking you to bring me anything - except the joy and happiness you always bring. This is a little note just to let you know I still believe in you; and when I get to be a real old man, and my hair is as white as yours, I will cling to you and all that you stand for even more devoutly than I do now. And no innocent youngster can ever be more thrilled by that chubby, red face of yours, than I.

From Your Grown Up Boy, Joe"

The Star of Bethlehem and the 48: As the kindly, loving spirit of Christmas is welcomed into the hearts and homes of the multitudes in the far corners of civilization it looms as a great American responsibility to guard and practice the teachings and the brotherhood of the holy season. Now nearly 2,000 years after the hallowed birth of Christ we face the most serious problem of survival that mankind has been called on to recognize. We cannot delude ourselves into believing that the peace and tranquility that is being talked of and proffered at the tables in Geneva is a guaranteed fact sponsored by well meaning friends. It is hard to reason that imprisoners of freedom throughout the world are using satellites as their final goal in 'convincing' weak nations that assimilation into a Soviet orbit is the only means to live in tomorrow's world. It is as foolhardy to think this as it is to assume that cancer can be stopped by old fashioned home remedies. The imminent threat of war has subsided for the time being. Yet, the inevitable clash of the systems of the idealogies is still a near future probability that hangs over an otherwise bright horizon.

The growth of the market of destruction has been so rapid and effective that an amateur seer can see why the nations, better still, the people of the world, cannot stand another war. The Russian world will split at the seams and bombs our once far removed, nonpenetrable United States could easily be molten geography.

Therefore, we have an added destiny. We woe our heritage a real fu'-fillment of democracy's aims and purpose. We dare not procreate and turn over the deed to a cretinous group of enemies. The 'ism' is unimportant. Yesterday, it was Fascism; today, it is Communism. The trauma unsealed, tomorrow, it could be merely Atomism.

Christmas and its spirit of hope and good thoughts is international. It is a pervasive light that shines thru lands, minds and hearts. It halts at no border and salutes no one flag. We, in America, are international. That's why we are Americans. Our vast population is a conglomerate. In a couple of hundred years we have successfully mixed European peasants with peers, some real - some pseudo. Language differences have been overcome and the color of the skin is less and less important. Out faith in our system is current. People are still being admitted to our country. The price of admission is loyalty and honesty to a cause that most of them felt too far removed to an actuality. Much as there is to improve on our shores, we are ideas, years and some distance from the effluvia of feudalism, the basis for Hitler and Stalin and many of the ills of the globe.

The point we strive to make at this coming Yuletide season, when minds are more susceptible to fraternity, is this. The Star of Bethlehem with its symbolic treasure and man's history burning in its rays has a modern ally in the 48 stars of our flag. The power and glory behind all of Betsy Ross' offspring is insurance that Christmas will continue for eternity. The Moscow mob, like the Berlin bunch or the exiled Peron punks, soon learn that subjects without God are vacuous votaries.

Your neighbor's opinion, recognition of a charity fund, a kind word for a troubled individual are three small 'time outs' at this month of the year. The cooperation as a good citizen is desired and needed. Our concern for ideals other than our own and for people not our blood relatives is the wished for practice this late December. That all these things, ways of better life, Christmas principles, can be part of our lives in the days weeks and months ahead is our investment in Christmas. When we reach that high plain, where the holiday is not an ephemeral 24 hours, but a lasting condition, the revolving geology we call 'earth' will spin with no squeaks and the celestial dome will have brighter colors in the rainbow.

May we lighten the jeremiad by listing some of the items we'd deliver, were we St. Nick!

A hundred million signatures on a huge Christmas card, marked 'Good health', addressed to Pres. Eisenhower . . . Extra tasty crumbs for the birds around who didn't migrate this winter . . . A record of Marian Anderson singing the 'Lords' Prayer' to be played on a network beamed at the bigots . . . A thousand F.A.O. Schwarz toy stores at the disposal of all the orphans . . . A new North Pole domicile for Santa designed by Frank Lloyd Wright . . . In respect to reindeer, assurance that no venison will be served anywhere on Christmas Day . . . A violin for Jack Benny - with Jascha Heifetz built into the strings . . . Some snow and a little touch of Jack Frost in the states where there are such things and passes to the newsreel theatres showing the same, to denizens for territory where summer is still around . . . Paper, pens, pencils, typewriters and etc. to Hemingway and Steinbeck for some literary nourishment from their fertile brains . . . '56 Cadillacs for everyone, - ask the man who owns a dream of one!!! A seprig of holly to Irving Berlin for penning 'White Christmas' and the hope that maybe he can add a new chorus or two of fresh lyrics so that it'll remain alive fore more years than forever.

At all adult education centers, a full course on answers to 'The $64,000 Question' . . . Lots of correspondence and visits from the family to all the hospitalized and the shut-ins at home . . . Sprinklings of uranium to Doris Day, Bing Crosby, Joe E. Lewis, Frank Sinatra, Lena Horne, James Cagney, Julie Wilson, Groucho Marx, William Holden, Peggy Lee, Walt Disney, Sammy Davis, Jr., Ella Logan and George Gobel for the bestest. . . Aspirin for Bill Rigney, who inherits Durocher's headache . . . A land grant and a huge savings bond to Dr. Salk for trying to make it possible for kids everywhere for all time to walk and dance at Christmas . . . a park full of firs and evergreen for Bob Moses, 'Mr. Tree' to so many New Yorkers . . . A television set that would make Fred Allen sound as funny as he did on radio . . . A world tour for the New York Yankees to last all season - so that the White Sox could win a pennant . . . Mistletoe hanging over Elizabeth Taylor, donna Reed, Martha Hyer, Dorothy Malone wherever they go. And us along to see that it's hanging . . . More energy for Donald O'Connor; more years for Jimmy Durante; and more laughs for Jackie Gleason . . . A party of prominents where nobody knows Elsa Maxwell . . . a Rocky Marciano cocktail for dull board of directors meetings. Two drinks and you are not around for the decision, and to all, from behind the red and green wrapping paper and the tinsel, one parting shot - Merry Christmas"