Congratulations to: Carlton Yelle, Mandee Widrick & Katie Brennan.
Who won the Christmas Online Writing Contest! We would like to honor our winners by posting their art here on the site. Congratulations again to our winners and enjoy.
2nd Runner-Up “The Porcelain Christ Child” Katie Brennan
”It is my fifth year here,At the little orphan home. My dull blond hair hanging limply,My gray eyes look like stone. As I stand staring out the window,That frosty, dirty windowLooking dully out the windowAt the blowing, drifting snow.Yet in my icy hand I holdA tiny, priceless treasure. A little baby in a bedScarcely an inch in measure.I gently traceHis sweet visageWith my bony little fingerAnd smoothing down his porcelain hairI kiss him,But then, I linger.The thin blanket of blue paintSmeared over his dear formSeems to give little warmthTo the babe so faded and worn.I remember the kind old priestwho had given this gift to meHis wrinkled smile and calm green eyesStill etched in my memory.“Little one,” he had said,Pressing the trinket into my hand“This is the Christ-Child, you seeAnd He came for every woman and manTo bring joy and peace to everyone.”He paused, then added,“And years laterHe would die upon a crossBut He rose again, you see,And He’s coming back someday,For you, and also for me.So, Merry Christmas, little one.”And he blessed me and walked awayI’ve never seen himSince that cold, December day.But I still remember that good old manAnd I remember what he said.I know the One called Jesus,And how He rose again from the dead.Now He stands in heaven,Loving us tenderly,But I hope that He sends more kind old priestsFor little ones just like me.”
1st Runner-Up “A Walk With The Wise Men” Mandee Widrick
“One snowy evening, I take a short walk
Away from the noisy, chattering talk.Footprints behind me in the soft snow;My eyes to the sky as I watch the moon glow.A Christmas song rises inside of my heart -The story of wisemen set to depart.Long distance they traveled following a starSeeking a King born in the land afar.He was born in Bethlehem as angels sang praise;In a stable with sheep and cattle He lay.Christmas, the day we remember His birth,The sacrifice He made by coming to Earth.Trees, lights, and gifts are common the cheer,But I hope the day’s meaning will always be clear.As I ended my walk beneath the falling snow,I looked forward to the chance to share what I know.To save the souls of sinners is why my King came;
He died in my place……….Jesus Christ is His name.”
Grand Prize “Old Man Clancy’s Gift” Carlton Yelle
“It was two days before Christmas and the whole town was busy getting those last few gifts for family and friends. The checkout lines were full. The Christmas tree lots were almost empty, and children ran around wildly, all anticipating the morning of sublime happiness and joy to come. I completely loved Christmas; it was the best time of the year. I mean honestly what boy of ten didn’t like Christmas. The presents, the food, and all the waiting made us nuts about it. Christmas was a day of paradise, no school or teachers, no rules, and snowball fights all day with your friends. Who could ask for anything more! I had already gotten all of my Christmas shopping done. So all of my presents were wrapped and under the tree. I could spend the next two days with my friends, running and playing. As I walked into the house my mother asked if I would like to go to the post office with her to drop off some packages, I agreed and we drove off to town together. On our way into town we passed old man Clancy’s house. Clancy owned the biggest house in the whole town, and the oldest. It was dingy and broken down. The paint was chipped and the windows were mostly shattered from kids throwing rocks at them. All in all it was a creepy house. I had never been on the inside but I figured that it was the same. Old man Clancy lived in the house alone. He mostly kept to himself since his family was killed in a fire seventeen years before. He never really had any visitors that I knew of; he just sat alone in his house all day doing nothing. Most of the kids on the block made scary stories of what he does inside, like weird experiments on kids and things like that. He only came out to get food and wood but since he had no job I don’t know how he paid for them. Maybe it was welfare or something. But when ever we did come out he had his bible in his hand, and he would be mumbling something to himself, probably a bible verse or something. He never did anyone any wrong. Although he was never around to do anything wrong; But the neighborhood kids including me did all sorts of cruel things to him. We threw rocks at his windows … and him. We tripped him; we spray painted things on his house, and we smashed his mail box. Even though we did all these mean things he never got mad, but his eyes would tear up a little and he would say Jesus loves you. Those three little words were all we ever heard him say. Since he did nothing to stop us we kept doing the mean things. But back to the story. We get to the post office and I saw Mark and James having a snowball fight. So I asked mother if I could join them, she agreed and I went over to join the battle. After a few minutes of war we spotted old man Clancy coming down the lane. James decided to start making snowballs with rocks in them. We joined in and as soon as old man Clancy came into range we opened fire. He let out a terrible scream and ran away crying. We kept throwing until he was gone then we highfived and then we resumed the war. Then out of nowhere my mom came up behind me grabbed me by the ear and dragged me to the car. As we were driving away she flipped her lid. She yelled and yelled about how I should be more considerate and stuff like that but I wasn’t listening. We got home and I got spanked and sent to my room. I was grounded for life, confined to my room. So I read comic books for the next two days. Then the night before Christmas I was sitting in my bed just looking out my window at the snow falling. It was a very cold night and the wind was howling. Just then I could see a shadowy figure in the haze. It was old man Clancy with a sack over his shoulder. He walked up to the porch and took something out of the bag placed it on my porch. As he was walking away I ran down stairs put on my boots and coat and went outside. There on the porch was a beautifully carved wooden toy soldier. I studied it over. It was perfect in every way. It had so much detail and on the bottom of the toy I spotted the words Jesus loves you carved into it. I started to smile, the biggest smile that has ever come across my face. I followed him around town and at each house of a child he left a beautifully carved toy. There must have been over a hundred. It finally got too cold for me to bear so I went back to my room and slept with content. The next morning I opened all my presents and poured out my stocking. I was so ecstatic with all the wonderful things that I had just received. After breakfast I asked my parents if I could go to old man Clancy’s to thank him for the gift. They agreed and I ran over to his house. I got there and I walked inside. The first thing that I noticed was that the whole house was indeed the same as the outside, and it was deathly cold. I found my way to the den where I saw an empty fireplace and old man Clancy sleeping in a chair next to it. He looked pale and as I walked closer I found that he was dead. He had no pulse. I ran around the house to try and find firewood too warm up the house but there wasn’t any. I came to the conclusion that he used the last of his firewood to make the presents for the children. I sat down and cried for hours realizing the love and compassion that he had for the children that did him wrong. My mother came to the house looking for me and I told her the story. I bought the old house and fixed it up. I am now 62 and to this day I try to live my life the way he did with love and compassion towards all. And the little toy soldier rests up upon the center of the mantle above the fireplace. Anyone who has ever came to my house and asks about it I have told them the story about how old man Clancy gave his last piece of wood to make the children happy.”
~33Live Web Admin~
At 33 Live we’re constantly looking at how we can train up the next generation. Right now we have over 30 leaders at work in the youth ministry, serving as a 33 Live Youth Leader, a Department Head, Boralee, or in DIBOR as a full time student. All of tonight’s meetings were at the new building in Watertown for the first time which was very exciting! To the left Brad Ringer goes to work during the DIBOR and Boralee Theology Class while on the right the Youth Leaders gather for their bi-weekly meeting hosted by yours truly. 
I’ve realized that true ministry is all about team-work and I’ve never felt so honored to be a part of such an amazing team as I do right now.If you’re somewhere in northern NY, make sure to come and join us for our inaugural meeting this Wednesday night at 7:00pm.
Both bands started the audience out with some rock music to put us in the mood. However, we all were awaiting the one band we’d really came to see: Third Day.
show. I had originally planned to stay in my seat during this short intermission, but with this news I leapt up and practically ran to find the sign-up table. I made it in time with 7 passes left available, and 3 of those were quickly sold to myself and two of my brothers.
But this is not the end! We had our Meet & Greets when the show was finished. We were led around the theatre to a small room where about 35 other people anxiously awaited the band (some of them being previous members of the fan club with passes). A round of applause was given as the four men entered through the door. Third Day! The band I’d wanted to see in concert for so many years was standing there before me, and now I actually got to meet them in person. What a privilege!
He was very friendly, signing our memorabilia and offering to get a picture with us. Next, we met guitarist Mark Lee and drummer David Carr. Once again, we received autographs and pictures while making small talk about random things. I finally made my way to lead man Mac Powell who, of course, was surrounded by multiple fans. After introducing myself, I popped him a random question. “Do you have a guitar pick in your pocket?” (Random, I know. ☺ ) He shook his head and began to apologize. However, upon digging into his pocket, lo and behold, one final guitar pick of the night. After congratulating me on his lucky discovery, he explained that when the lights went out upon 
the finish of the show, he must have forgotten to throw the pick into the audience and shoved it into his jeans instead. I was thrilled.
