Christmas Family Storytelling and Singing

That's not... We usually get to eat the candy.

Daddy just likes to get it 'cause it's romantic. Well, what did he get you?

12 beautiful children. Six boys, six girls.

Oh, let's say thank you, Mama.

Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Daddy.

That's real sweet. Did you wanna add anything to Mama's story

about that?

I believe she just about covered all of it, Dolly.

Oh, she usually does. She usually does most of the talking,

don't she?

That's real sweet. Well, I just wanna take the time, since it

is Christmas, from

all of us to thank you both for all the good years that you've

given us, and thank you for sharing that story-

You're welcome

... and your candy.

And, and speaking of stories, we've got a story on you.

Another story about me? Did Randy help you with this?

Is this like one of Randy's songs?

Do you remember what Dolly always wanted for Christmas?

Makeup.

She'd rather have makeup than live.

Daddy wouldn't allow it in the house.

He said it was evil.

But you know how Dolly was. She used to take matches and burn them

and wet them on

the ends- ... and make mascara. Yeah, and I remember how he's take them old

pokeberries used to grow out in back and put them on my lips and pinch my

cheeks till they just was pink, and they were beautiful till they turned

blue.

But that didn't stop me, either.

Then Daddy would ask you if you were wearing makeup,

and you would just lie.

I didn't just lie. I wasn't wearing makeup.

I was wearing pokeberries.

I better sing, and you better help me. And you better watch me.

Oh, little town of

Bethlehem. How still we

see thee lie.

Above thy deep and

dreamless sleep. The silent

stars go by. Yet

in the dark streets shineth.

The everlasting

Light. The hopes and

fears of all the years. Are

met in thee tonight.

Oh, holy Child of

Bethlehem. Descend to

us, we pray.

Cast out our sin and enter

in. Be born in us

today.

We hear the Christmas

angels. The great glad

tidings tell.

Oh, come to us, abide with

us. Our Lord

Emmanuel. Oh,

little town of Bethlehem.

How still we see thee lie.

Above thy deep and dreamless

sleep. The silent stars

go by.