'Twas the week before Christmas
and all through my mind,
danced visions and memories
from a previous time.
The time in my life when dad was alive,
the things that were Christmas to him.
Boxes of chocolate covered cherries,
how dad would dive right into them.
Searching for slippers high and low,
not any old slippers would do.
Dad wore slippers like shoes,
so Christmas would bring him a pair brand new.
Old fashioned fudge was always a must,
and chocolate covered peanut butter balls.
Frosted sugar cookies and hot cocoa too,
and Christmas bliss decking the halls.
We hung Christmas cards on the back of our door
and would read them over and over.
From aunts and uncles and grandparents too,
with pictures of cousins growing quicker than clover.
Christmas Eve would find us all together,
dad and his three growing kin.
After Midnight Mass at church,
we would gather at home again.
Santa would come while we were away,
leaving gifts under the tree.
We'd have hot cocoa and warm sticky buns,
then open our presents with glee.
At the center of all of this cheer,
we never forgot Christ in the meaning.
Christmas comes with peace and hope,
and the best gift of love is a blessing.
