Its Christmas time again, as if anyone could fail to notice, even
without leaving my house I can see more than half a dozen houses decorated to
the hilt.
Every coloured light imaginable, Santa’s on the roof or climbing a
ladder, sleighs, elves, snowmen, bells, stars, baubles and last but by no means
least standing almost four feet high, that perennial Christmas favourite,
Winnie the Pooh.
Wait a minute though you might well be saying what does Pooh have to do
with Christmas? Well every other house seems to have one so there must be
something in it.
I don’t recall mention of him in the bible and in the many nativity
plays I have seen over the years he was conspicuous by his absence and although
there is a donkey, but it’s not Eeyore.
The stable did not house Piglet and the wise men did not travel from the
east with Tigger baring gifts of Huney.
Nor in any of the Christmas traditions around the world is there a
single reference to Pooh as one of Santa’s helpers.
There’s Black Peter, The Jolly Elf, even the devil figure Krampus but no
Pooh, but people still give him pride of place on their lawns at Christmas.
I just don’t get it.
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