Yes. Yes I did get it.

Perry the Platypus mug.

Yeah, you read correctly, I got the Perry the Platypus mug. It's wonderful. First thing I did, wash it. Second thing I did, make hot chocolate in it. Third thing I did, drink the hot chocolate. Ain't it great?

It's got Perry on one side (as you can see), and Doofenshmirtz (I'm pretty sure I just spelled that wrong) on the other. Here, I'll get you a picture!!

Teehee! It says, "Agent P wants YOU to join the agency!" It's wondiferous.

So, was I surprised? Not really...I mean, sorta. I was really...glad that I got it. Have you ever had something like that happen? Like, you're surprised, but you're not, but you're also happy that you got it? *shrugs* I dunno.... I think I was gonna go and try to be profound, and then, I didn't know how. Weird.

There is something though.

Do you know what it's like to be without hope? Or at least feel like you're without hope? I can't say that I have, though I can't say that I really know what it feels like, tangibly, to have hope. It's one of those things I just haven't really thought about, because, I suppose, I've never really been in that situation.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow did, though. Don't know who he is? A poet. Pretty good one, too, apparently. What you all probably know him for, really, is the Christmas carol, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day."

In the summer of 1861, his wife had died in a freak accident - that is, she caught on fire when the wind blew and a hot wax fell on her dress (so the story goes). That first Christmas without his wife, Henry wrote in his journal, "I can make no record of these days. Better leave them wrapped in silence. Perhaps someday God will give me peace." The next year, he said, "'A merry Christmas' say the children, but that is no more for me."

The year after that, his son, Charles, who fought for the Union in the Civil War, was shot between the shoulder blades, leaving him crippled. He didn't write anything in his journal that Christmas.

Think the guy had hope? Not likely. He was depressed and lonely. The next year, he probably would've remained silent, too. But, he wasn't. Instead, he was somehow inspired to write a poem made of seven stanzas in his journal. They spoke of the war, and how he felt the strength of hate, and how he despaired about the lack of hope on the earth.

But, through the course, you could see that something changed. The last stanza goes like this:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep,
"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail
With peace on earth, good will to men!"


Somehow, by the end, Henry had remembered that there was peace, and there was hope. Christmas was the season that reminded him. He seemed to remember that it was Christ who brought comfort, not the situations around us. Yes, the death of his wife, and the crippling of his son was tragic, but they weren't his hope. Christ was. The hope of the world.

I'm gonna get, I know I'm gonna get it!

Actually, no, I don't know if I'm gonna get it. What is "it"? Why, I'll tell you. It's a Perry the Platypus mug. You know, from Phineas and Ferb.

My mom and I were shopping in the mall yesterday, and we went into the Disney store - just because. I mean, really, how can you resist? It's such fun being in there, and you have no idea why!! Anyways, while we were in there, I found a mug...the Perry mug...I was in awe, I gaped. I loved it. And it was only four dollars. Yes, that's a good thing.

Mom asked if I wanted it for Christmas...um...okay. Well, Mom, I'm with you. Right now. That would ruin the surprise. She knew that, she told me. And, then I let slip something awful: "It's all about the surprise!" She knew what I meant, but I still had to correct myself. "I mean, it's all about Jesus! But..."

I don't remember exactly how the conversation went, but there was a lot of fake...I don't even know. Finally, she sent me out of the store, so she could decide whether or not she was going to get it. It took a bit, five minutes, maybe ten, I don't know, and then she came back.

Did she get it? I don't know. I'll let you know tomorrow.

Snow

Ya know what I've decided? Snow on the ground stops the wind. Have you ever noticed? I've realized that snow does always seem to make the cold a little easier to bear, but, when I stepped outside today, I noticed something new about it: no wind.

Sure, the snow always adds a...stillness to the world, but, this almost was...I don't even know. But, I've developed a new theory that snow controls the wind, and only uses it to descend from the sky to the earth. And then, it holds it captive until it decides to add the chill.

And then there's the ice. It creates a thin coat on tree branches and small plants, hugging it, making it smoother, slicker. It is so cold to touch, and too tempting to resist.

When the sun is out, I can see the branches of the trees glisten and glimmer, capturing and returning the light like diamonds. I love it even more under the white lights when it's dark. It adds mystery to the air, an almost mysticism to the world. It makes me wonder if there's  an adventure out there for me. If only I could capture it, and go along.

Hope?

I read a magnificent poem recently that was more of an epic than a normal "feelings" poem, if you know what I mean. Of course, I'm not expert in poems, so all I can really say about it was that the rhythm was quite nicely done, and I could totally feel what was going on. I had only one problem with it.

It ended without hope.

Now, I love a good angsty story/poem/whatever. I really do, I've dabbled in it multiple times. The ones I've done that have ended without the hope of things looking up are my fan fiction pieces, and that's because it was in the midst of the actual thing, therefore the reader ought to know that not all is lost. So, there is hope, just not really.

Why wouldn't one have hope at the end? To me, that says that living life is worthless if there isn't hope to be had. Why live if death isn't even worth it? What's the reward for living? Not much when there isn't hope.

So, I guess the question is, why do you not put hope at the end? And, if you do, why?

For me, I do. Why? Because I have hope. And, I suppose, that because I have hope, I can't help but offer it to others.

It Has Begun

Well...hey! This is it, huh? Okay, then.

Welcome to my blog! It's not much, not yet at least, but, hopefully, with time, it'll expand and get better. Jimmy Candlestick's my pen name, so my posts will mostly be on writing, and stuff like that. Boring? Let's hope not. I'll try to be interesting, but, no promises!

So, yeah...welcome, have fun, and I hope to have my first "official" (this is so not official) post up soon!

-Jimmy C.