A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS MEMORY

Merry Christmas to all my bloggers. Here's a poem I wrote about Christmas as a child growing up in Long Island, NY.

I remember, I remember,
the Christmas days of old,
when tiny lights and tinsel hung
on greenery untold.

The night before I tossed and turned,
and sleep was not my friend.
Awake, I counted stars and stars,
and seconds to the end.

I tiptoed down the stairs at dawn,
so careful not to wake,
the house of kindly souls that give,
and often dreams did make.

My mother, she arranged the gifts
as if an artist would.
Each one had her mark of love,
like no other could.

Then noise I'd make, to wake the others,
and pretend I didn't dare.
And slowly one by one they'd wake,
with a zombie's stare.

Some coffee and my hopeful eyes
would rouse them to attention.
I offered each a gift I'd made,
with love as my intention.

Bows and paper would start to fly,
with excitement in the air.
The special gift I'd open next,
the one that was so rare.

Oh yes, it's here, the nursing cart,
for which I'd prayed so long.
With cap of white and cross displayed,
I'd heal the sick with song.

All sparkling clean and newly dressed,
it's off to church we'd flee.
To the Christ child's house we'd go,
to worship God with glee.

At evenings end, when day was done,
on my pillow I would rest,
and think about the gifts I'd come to love,
knowing God's gift, was the best.

http://www.helium.com/users/406242.html

http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/237923/Kathy_stemke_dancekam.html

http://kathystemke.weebly.com