And to all, a good night!
mood: 
happy
happySettling in for the evening with A Christmas Carol; some dialogue nicely parallels the ongoing struggle with Christmas we find in our world and our hearts (though in some cases it has been repainted in more contemporary or postmodern hues):
Scrooge: Nephew, you keep Christmas in your way. I'll keep it in mine.So whether the "Bah, humbugs!" come from traditional Scrooges or in cloaks of skewed pluralism, I still say "Merry Christmas!" to them all. We all need it, like we need nothing else.
Fred: But you don't keep it!
Scrooge: Then let me leave it alone, then.
Fred: I still say, "Merry Christmas!"
Scrooge: That's all you do say, much good it does you—much good it'll ever do you.
Fred: I daresay there are many things I've got a lot of good from which haven't made me a penny profit—Christmas amongst 'em. You see, Uncle, I've always thought of Christmas as a time for good, not a time for profit. A kind, forgiving time. A time when men and women can think of others. It has never put an extra penny in my pocket, but I believe Christmas has done me good and will do me good! So I still say, "Merry Christmas, Uncle!"
God bless us, every one.
We said it to our waitress tonight, and she got this stunned look - as if no one had said this non-PC term to her. Then she smiled a huge smile and said it back.
humbugs
'Nephew!' returned the uncle, sternly, 'keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.'
'Keep it!' repeated Scrooge's nephew. 'But you don't keep it.'
'Let me leave it alone, then,' said Scrooge. 'Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!'
'There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,' returned the nephew. 'Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that- as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!'</blockquote>Very merry indeed.
Eunuchs
It's not an Abraham story