The rain beats a tattoo upon my roof that would make Gene Krupa green with envy while the wind howls its accompanying strident song and the temperature whispers, “Cool, baby, cool.”

Winter in Missouri has arrived with its concert of lousy weather and the denizens of Almosta ranch hunker down and seek warmth where they can. The horses in the shelter of the barn, the goats in their lean-to, the dogs on the back porch, and me in my recliner near the heater….we all have our favorite spots.

The television drones endlessly in the background….almost white-noise….and heralds yet another Christmas season approaching with the speed and inevitability of a tsunami, and with much the same result. Commercials endlessly trumpet the battle call to spend, to consume, to overreach our ability to pay. All in the name of the Holy Trinity: Walmart, Target, and Sears with worship services held at your local banks and Credit Unions and prayers offered up in the form of sacrifices involving the credit card of your choice.

Ah, tis the season to….what?

It occurs to me, as I sit here and listen to the endless babble emanating from my forty-inch, High Definition pacifier, what present would I really want for this Christmas season if the Donald Trump of fairy godfathers were to drop down from the skies into my living room and tell me I could have anything in the world for Christmas that my heart desired.

What would I tell him? What, more than anything else in the world, do I want for Christmas?

The first thing that I would ask for is Twenty years. Twenty years to live and love my sweet wife. After all, we only found each other a short ten years ago and the odds of us ever getting to share a thirty year anniversary are slim to none. Just wrap those years up in a pretty box with all the appropriate festive paper and flashy bow and leave it under my tree and I will joyfully open it and enjoy those years growing old and ancient with the only woman who has ever held my full, true heart.

Now, Trump Fairy, if you don’t mind, right next to that little present I would like you to leave one more. This second gift would reside in an even larger box with even more extravagant wrappings and bows and inside this box would be a life. When I open this box with shaking and joyous hands, my step-son, Richard who was a career helicopter pilot in the Army would not have died of Cancer, but he would be here with us and more importantly, he would be here to love his wife and raise his small son who would otherwise grow up never knowing the wonderful man his father was.

So that’s it Mr. Trump Fairy Godfather; you just leave those two boxes under my tree this Christmas and I will be a happy man.

What’s that?

You mean if I can’t buy it from Walmart, you can’t give it to me?

That’s okay then, you just fly away to your next client and I will be happy with my seasonal package of socks, a new tee-shirt, and maybe a pair of pants. I will be happy with whatever time I have left on Earth to share with my sweet wife and I will be thankful for the time I had to love Richard.

It is alright if I never get the presents I would want if I could have anything in the world as long as I have one more day. After all, here on Almosta Ranch we tend to take one day at a time and count our blessings with each sun that rises.