A REAL CHRISTMAS
I was five years old that Christmas but I remember well
Every detail of that evening - how we listened for the bell
To tell us Santa Claus was ready and just about to leave -
The signal for our entering our presents to receive.
First there'd be an early supper, then a bath, and freshly dressed,
For of course on Christmas Eve we had to look our best.
Then the line-up in the kitchen, waiting for the bell to ring,
And the music soft, playing holy music, "Christ is King."
Came our cue to sing our song "Silent Night, Holy Night."
Happy, carefree, joyous, gay, we sang that song with all our might.
While marching to the parlor the wonder there to see;
The grand array of presents and the great big Christmas tree.
In a corner of the room that was meant for only me.
A table stood in front of it with tiny dishes rare;
A little stove with pots and pans, and a lovely rocking chair.
And dolls! Too beautiful for words each on her little throne;
One dressed in pink and one in blue, and all this mine alone.
A great big Santa Claus stood beneath my little tree
With candy, nuts and fruits galore. And this, too was for me.
My prayer that night, that blessed night, was one of thanks and love.
For parents, dear old Santa Claus, and Christ, our Lord, above.
Agnes Astholz Adams
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