A christmas story

Dear Bloggers,

As I am not much of a Christmas fan, but I will tell you a little Christmas story.
After this, I will put the keyboard in the corner for the coming days.
I shall try to write one more just before the end of the year.
Well here the story comes, have some happy holidays and celebrate Christmas how you think it is right.

On a dark, cold and storm full night, that is how it starts.
It was Christmas Eve.
It was snowing, and I was all alone outside, and I have no family.

So, I'm just sitting there, minding my own business, when out of nowhere, someone sits down next to me.
It's a man, I can tell, because he's wearing shorts and his legs are not shaved.
I ignore him.

Then, he decides to speak.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said in a soft voice.
His voice was deep, and he had an accent, I guessed north of England somewhere.
I continued to ignore the mystery-man.
"Don't you have somewhere to go?
It's not safe out here.
"I have nowhere to go."
I responded finally.



"Don't you have family?" he asked, turning towards me slightly.
I still did not look up at him.
"Not anymore.
They kicked me out."
"On Christmas Eve?!" the man exclaimed, sounding shocked.
"They kicked you out on Christmas eve, when it's snowing and like, five below zero?! Jeez!"

"Well, it was their choice."
"Do you have a place to stay at least?
A friend's house maybe?"
"No."
"Alright".
Come and go with me to my place.
You can stay there.

" Alarmed, I looked up at the man".
"Umm..." was all I could say.
"Please?
I'll give you some dry, warm clothes.

" His blue eyes were wide, and i was shocked by how beautiful they were.
(was this the so called Messiah?)
"Why are you being nice to me?" I asked quietly.
"Because no one deserves to be alone on Christmas.
Now, come on, before you freeze out here."



"What's your name?" he asked, suddenly realising he didn't know it.
I did not answer but there was hot chocolate on the stove, and I got a very cozy place to sleep.

I thought by myself:
"Like, a half an hour ago".
I was outside all alone, and he brought me back here.
"I seriously thought you were going to die, because it's so bloody cold out there."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, I woke up, comfortable and warm.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, MATE!!!!!!!!!!!" satisfied, he skipped out of the room towards the Christmas tree.
Suddenly, i felt sad.

Everyone else was going to have a great, present-filled Christmas.
Except for me.
"Everybody needs a present on Christmas," he told me.
A lump came to my throat.

I'd never had a Christmas present before.
"Open it!" With shaking fingers, i took off the wrapper.
"thank you." I whispered, tears forming in my eyes.



This kind of thing was new to me.
I'd never had someone be so kind.

Even though it was something simple it was given from the heart.
"Personally, a smile is all I want."
I smiled at him.

He took me to my house to pick up some of my clothes.
They answered the door.
"What are you doing here?" my wife snarled.
"We just need to pick up some of his things, ma'am," He said, squeezing my hand for support.

"And to wish you a Merry Christmas, of course."
My wife stepped aside.
In almost no time, I had packed everything I needed for a new life.
A better life.

I had to make a new start again, it was all a bad dream, but it might happen for real.



"Because... not everything in live is as nice as we had hoped for".
It is just a story that might be possibly happening in anyone's live, even though it is Christmas.

If you can't get along with each other this could be your future, but in every sad story there is a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel.

There are some good people out there, so give the beggar some coins.
He might become your friend one day.

And get everything out of life before it is too late.
"Merry Christmas, to everyone that needs it."

The Old Sailor,

The Birthday Present

This blog was posted in Dutch on the 18th of march 2008

The Birthday Present

Dear bloggers,

I did not dare to tell but my wife and spouce had the genious idea to get as a birthday present a new pneumatic drill for me....
Well... when i took off the giftwrapping, my mouth fell open of astonishment.
"And?" she said, "Do you like your gift, is it ok?" I stotterd something like "Thanks... very impressive.
"Where did you buy this thing actually?"
"From a friend who just came back from Afghanistan." She said.
"He has bought a huge amount of them overthere and sells them now in the West of Europe for peanuts."
I was totally shocked.
That bad that, when she said: "And now you finally gone hang up this pictureframe with the picture of my dad."
And i really got started with the users manual.

After an hour of studying some kind of outrages….. anger….yes…..anger, dear bloggers, a kind of outrages madness.
I could just control myself and asked her finely tuned: "And where on the wall did you want to have in mind to place this picture of your dad?" "Well overhere!" she said, and pointed me the place at the wall where on the other side definitely the neighbors livingroom would be.

The bang was overwhelming, the penetration abilities of the projectiel were unbelieveable and the aquarium of the neighbors was fully splintered into a million pieces.

Dear bloggers, I am writing you this letter from the prison.
They have – totally with no right at all – meant to lock me up as a dangerous idiot that i am actually not.
But you did know this, or? That i am not dangerous, i mean!

It is pretty lonely out here, dear bloggers. All conversations are about soccer, motorbikes and horny bitches, or molotovcocktails and how a human being can in a very suffistucated way bring a prison warden to the end of his life.
Not really 'My cup of tea'.

More than ever i need your support.
Send me letters and postcards and... and... packages with presents and... yes... those cakes and bread WITH ALL KINDS OF THINGS IN IT.... you know what i mean.
It doesn’t make sence to give you the openingtimes of the prison, as only my family is allowed to visit me.
Luckely my wife and spouce is coming every day to visit me.
She keeps outing herself in vague apoligies and asks over and over again. 'how this all could have happened?'

Until now i did not succeed to explain her the difference between a pneumatic drill and a ….. well, have a look at the picture.

Dear bloggers, i don’t see any way to get out of here.
I can not take this forever.
If they are gone take me to trial and ask me about the how and why, what should i say?
That i never meant to hit the neighbors wife and after that the aquarium?

The odds are against me.
I will never see you again.

I loved you all in a passionate way!
Your Old Sailor.