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Column: 'Merry Christmas,' I shouted

This column is a repeat of my 2011 greeting. Three hundred one Americans died in Afghanistan in 2012. In the last month, one Minnesotan, Dale Means, 23, of Jordan, died there. Beyond those numbers, deaths of service personnel from suicide exceed ...

This column is a repeat of my 2011 greeting. Three hundred one Americans died in Afghanistan in 2012. In the last month, one Minnesotan, Dale Means, 23, of Jordan, died there. Beyond those numbers, deaths of service personnel from suicide exceed combat deaths. What a tragic, painful price we are paying. As long as Americans are fighting wars in foreign lands, this will be my annual message. Peace on earth and peace to you.

"Merry Christmas!" I shouted to a woman on the street.

But she didn't hear me.

Her misty eyes stared halfway 'round the globe

Where her son was lost in Afghanistan

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And never found his way home.

"Merry Christmas!" I cried to an old gent in the alley.

But he didn't hear me.

He was dragging a cardboard box to another address

Moving his house to a friendlier neighborhood

Wondering where he belonged.

"Merry Christmas!" I heralded to the working man.

But he didn't hear me.

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His hope was still at the locked gate of a factory

Where his job once was

What would he tell his family?

"Merry Christmas!" I called to the mother of three.

But she didn't hear me.

She had just won a long, hard fight

To become an ex-wife

And her victory smelled of ruin and ashes.

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"Merry Christmas!" I spoke to the elder in a rocking chair.

But he didn't hear me.

His mind was back in 1950

Where he was young and handsome and strong

He had never gotten acquainted with the stranger they called 2011.

"Merry Christmas," I whispered to the new widow.

But she didn't hear me.

Words of cheer were overpowered by grief

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And loneliness smothered her smile

Maybe next month she will lift her head.

"Merry Christmas," I mumbled under my breath.

But I didn't believe it.

Hardship, misfortune and bitterness had surrounded me

And my spirit had given up

And surrendered without a fight.

"Merry Christmas, mister!" exulted a little child.

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Three times he caroled it before I heard.

"Cheer up and get singing," he coaxed.

"Nobody's going to feel joy around here

Until you and I and some angels join in a chorus."

"Merry Christmas!" sang the child and I to the world.

And this time the world heard us.

Because the child was the son of God

And we sang of peace, healing, comfort and hope

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Won't you please join in the chorus?

Lynn Hummel is a regular columnist for Detroit Lakes newspapers, owned by Forum Communications Co.

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