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.
