I see a vanished land
Where the squire held command
Over the countryside,
Before the tide
Turned
And paternalism was spurned,
Or merely ebbed away
Ushering in a new day.

To hounds he rode
Or through his estate strode
In search of grouse or pheasant.
With countenance pleasant
Or severe
He ruled his peasants
Far and near.

Sometimes a thinker
And often a drinker
He felt a connection with the whole
Estate, his soul
Was as one
with generations long since gone.
Frequently inarticulate
He did hate
The untried
And cried
Out for the preservation of the old ways.

Nothing stays
Unaltered.
The rock-like squire faltered
As the wind of progress
That does redress
All ills, brought salvation
To the nation.
Now those who the price of everything know, hold command
While squire and peasant stand
Bemused, upon this altered land.

A heart surgeon took his car to his local garage for a monthly service to a poor mechanic.
“So tell me,” says the mechanic, “I’ve been wondering about what we both do for a living, and how much more you get paid than me…”
“Yes?” says the surgeon.
“Well look at this,” says the mechanic, as he worked on a big complicated Audi engine, “I check how it’s running, open it up, fix the valves, and put it all back together so it works good as new. We basically do the same job don’t we? And yet you are paid twenty times what I am – how do you explain that?”
The surgeon thought for a moment, and smiling gently, replied quietly to the mechanic,
“Try it with the engine running.”

If there is one person responsible for the modern version of Christmas we celebrate today, that person is Charles Dickens and the story that converged many rituals into one and reinvented the holiday we know today is A Christmas Carol.

For a story concerned with giving to others in compassion, goodwill, and charity