Yevet Tenney

The first time I remember singing the hymn of Thanksgiving, “Come Ye Thankful People Come,” written by Henry Alford, was at our eighth-grade Thanksgiving program for our parents back in 1963, the year President Kennedy was assassinated.

A few Sundays ago, I spent some time in the nursery at our church with my two granddaughters, Hazel and Darcy. Hazel is 1, and Darcy is 2. Like the other six or seven children in the nursery, their eyes shone with delight as they milled through the toys and played with each other.

I find it interesting how the proponents of socialism hang on to the concept of equal rights, thinking that it means distribution of wealth and property. They scream for the rich to share their wealth because they have it to give.

I am increasingly disturbed at the horrible atrocities committed against innocent people. Why doesn’t God step in and stop the advance of evil in the world? Surely He can do it. He is omnipotent and omnipresent. He knows what is going on, and I am sure it grieves Him terribly.

Back in the day, when I woke up to the quiet sounds of birds chirping in the trees and the warm serene light of morning streaming through my curtains, and the warm secure feeling of family wrapped around me like a blanket, I knew the absence of fear.

Back in the day, I studied Greek theater. As many of you know, the Greeks performed in huge outdoor amphitheaters, so they used gigantic masks equipped with megaphones to portray their characters. The modern word hypocrisy came from those masks.