Christmas Memories

As thoughts turn to Christmas, I wanted to share a work of poetry I created for our San Angelo Writer's Club meeting. We broke bread together, sharing pieces of our past.

Christmas Memories

One out of 12 Christmas’s in Richmond, Virginia might be white.
On Christmas Eve the challenge for 5 young Prests came in saying goodnight
Which one would wake the other four for the stocking search?
To the chimney we’d go, once found we’d drag the prize back to our bed top perch.

The tissue paper would fly as treats appeared before our sparkling eyes.
Childhood excitement filled the air, still hazy dark before dawn’s light.
A sleepy adult would enter the room shaking their head while asking for calm
A simultaneous gulp all five of us would try to hold down while listening to

“Back to bed you go, no present opening until after the sun is up.”
With a handful of goodies we’d retreat under the covers waiting for the light to dawn.

As an adult I find Christmas different now.
Giving is more fun than receiving.
Seeing and hugging long separated relatives beats a pile of presents hand’s down.

As I think back to that childhood admonition
“No present opening until the sun comes up”
With the change of a few words it morphs into
“The present opening is the Son comes.”

Merry Christmas to all,
I’d hate to think we need to retreat under the covers
waiting for the light of peace to dawn throughout the world,
but we may.

Peace on Earth.
Goodwill Man to Man,
Woman to Woman,
Child to Child