Gifts

Your favorite alien has once more had a chance to observer your species during this most unique time of the earth year. I must tell you that there is nothing quite like it in our known galaxy.

I must say, this year it was pinch and insert for a while. (Editor’s note: he means “nip and tuck.”) It seemed this year some of your species, especially those in the conservative-leaning media, wanted to use this wonderful time of to cause you to divide and distrust one another. How dreadful.

But, you prevailed and I am glad to say that the spirit lives in the Big Dope household. Even the collection of dogs and cats they have rescued and keep on the farm were on their best behavior. Well, sort of. There were a couple of instances in which Christmas presents delivered by UPS were intercepted and …, well Big Dope didn’t need another shirt anyway.

The days leading up to Christmas ended with their annual visit to their farm neighbors. This year they let me go. It was a treat. What a family. The husband was raised on the mean and poor streets of Laredo, Texas. The wife is a naturalized citizen from Ensenada, Mexico.

For the last several years they have been caring for, in addition to their two daughters (both movie star gorgeous), four foster children who have now returned to their parents. So it was just the four of them when we called on them this year with some small gifts.

It was then that I realized Big Dope has a motive behind his generosity. The wife makes the best tamales in the western hemisphere, perhaps the galaxy. We certainly don’t have anything to match them in Falloonia.

Big Dope made an omnivorous domesticated hoofed mammal with sparse bristly hair and a flat snout for rooting in the soil of himself.

Anyone who would seek to generate division
and distrust during this season of love and hope
is sorely in need of  a hobby. - C.W.

 

The husband entertained us with stories about how, as a child, his family was one of four that would "follow the harvest" in a covered flat-bed truck, each family claiming a corner in which to live during the travels.

 

The wife gave Mrs. Big Dope a knitted headband that covers the head and most of the ears. She makes them in her spare time and donates most of them to St. Jude’s Hospital in Memphis Tennessee for the kids who lose their hair during cancer treatments.

Then, of course, on Christmas Eve, she makes tamales for Big Dope.

That’s what I like about your species, this generosity from folks who, themselves, live in the most modest of circumstances. It is particularly touching this time of year.

As I say, there isn’t anything like it in the galaxy.

You should be proud.