that Christmas Eve as I scrambled
down the darkened stairs
into a lighted kitchen, awake and
believing it Christmas morn,
to see my dad putting together the
gas station
with its working lift and doors
that opened,
what I’d asked for that afternoon
on Santa’s lap
at the Sears and Roebuck, had seen
in their Christmas catalog,
pouring over it and marking what I
wanted most;
but my mother intercepted me, too
late, to take me by the hand
back up the stairs and into bed,
not a word exchanged
about my father helping Santa, nor,
held fast,
the candy cane taken from my
stocking hung there
at the top of the stairs, for Santa
had come,
as he had every year, and every
year since,
even now as I, like my father, help
him out
with doll houses, bikes and wagons,
“assembly required”
on Christmas Eve by elves and
fathers pitching in,
caught by children, eager and
creeping early
down from their rooms, awake and believing.
Merry Christmas,
"and on Earth, peace, goodwill to men."
Nice blog! Is your theme custom made or did you
ReplyDeletedownload it from somewhere? A design like yours with a few
simple tweeks would really make my blog stand out.
Please let me know where you got your theme.
Appreciate it
My weblog:
I used the Simple Template and changed the colors and added the picture. Actually, this is the 2nd iteration of the page with a new color scheme and picture. Like any web page, it's best to update it from time to time.
Delete