A wonderful light hearted Christmas tale… no I’m not saying that with a straight face, just read it and share it with all your friends and family.
“Why do I have eyes of different colors? The brown eye is my own. The blue eye is a different story. I plucked it from the freshly dead body of a young Irish nun. She’d killed herself because she had a vision that the child she was carrying, the child of the handsome young priest, was the Antichrist.”
“Why were you there Uncle Jeff?” A young voice in a hushed whisper asked.
“Because, my dear, I was the handsome young priest. That was before the life I live now. But I still see visions of angels and of a family in a warm embrace of love, then the fires of Hell with dancing devils and…”
“JEFF. STOP IT,” I yelled. “You’re going to give them nightmares.”
I know better than to ask my crazy brother to tell Christmas stories to my children and their young cousins.
“But, Simon, the stories are…
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