Anonymous

No sugar-plums dancing, no Dad in his cap,
No Momma in kerchief, no reindeer feet taps.
For this year, you see, they’d given it up,
Their hope for the kids that they always did want.

The stories of Santa would not be told,
No Christmas day stockings, all the way full.
They woke without pageant, pomp, or pep,
Together, alone, in the loneliness crept.

And just when they started to go back to sleep,
From the front porch they heard a very small peep.
The dogs started barking, “a stranger, beware!”
But neither of them could muster a care.

The peep grew louder, then followed a knock;
Up groaned the man, to see what was amuck.
He looked out the peephole, but nothing to see,
So he slid off the lock, and took a small peep.

Sitting there, on the ground, right at his feet,
Was a tiny card, with a bow so neat.
With a dour emote, he went to tuck it away,
Shook a fist in the air, muttered “kids these days!”

When just out the corner of his sleepy eye,
Written in cursive, his name he did spy.
He flipped the card over, faster than quick,
Scrawled on the back, “Yours truly, Saint Nick”.

He ran to the bedroom, letter in tow,
To his skeptical wife, he had to show.
“Give me a break” she started to chide;
She glanced at the letter than tossed it aside

As she tossed it aside, out flew a small note,
Scrawled in block letters, “Santa” was wrote.
Written in crayon as only kids can do,
Was a Christmas wish list from their Nephew.

“I want a ball and a new set of blocks,
For momma, she wants a nice jewelry box.
For sissy, a slide, for dad, a new saw,
A framed photograph for gran’ and grandpa.
And last, but not least, for my Aunt and Uncle,
A new tiny babe for them to both cuddle.
And if that can’t happen, then let them move in,
So I can read and play all day with them.”

They looked at each other, both dumbfound,
Then turned to the envelope that he had found.
From under the flap, they saw there was more:
Another note they had missed before.

“Pray for my son, on this Christmas Day,
Please take his hand and guide his way.
I don’t know how to put in to words
The true love that this Mother’s heart holds.

Their cross has been hard, their road tough,
But there is only one thing I truly want.
Not sugar, not spice, not everything thing nice,
Just true happiness for him and his wife.”

Was this the same mother, the one who’d decried,
When him and his wife announced they’d stopped trying?
They couldn’t believe the note that they read,
His heart was speaking, the words left unsaid.

At this point the tears were falling like snow;
Through their watering eyes, they saw one more note.
This was one was different, in ink that was red;
Through the tear-soaked paper, the words bled:

“Rest now in Me, your weary womb,
For I am Lord of the empty tomb.
Your turbulent soul, your battered will;
To you I command, “Peace, be still.”

To you and your marriage, My life-giving love,
To grow a new heart filled with grace from above.
It may not be the life both had dreamed,
But from your birth, your life I’d foreseen.

So go and give life to all those you see,
Bring them My Love, through you, from Me.
The trials and tribunes have given you strength,
To spread My love and share My grace.

You are the reason I came to this earth;
You are the reason, Our Mother gave birth.
Give glory this day for all that you have,
And please give a call to your Mom and Dad.

P.S. Your nephew is outside. Remind him how much I love him too.”

As they finished that line, the doorbell rang.
Their niece and nephew and the whole gang
Were on their front step with presents in hand;
They even brought Pa’s famous smoked ham.

Their once quiet house, now filled with glee,
Joy flooded their hearts, the loneliness fleed.
That night they nestled in to their warm, comfy bed,
Joined as one, He took her hand and he said:

“Thank you God for this Christmas day,
You’ve given us joy and filled us with faith.
Bless us o’ Lord as we enter this year
Through the toughest of journeys, to know you are near.

Fill our hearts with peace and our minds with your truth;
Ease the worry and stress that only you can soothe.
and, Thank You O’ God, for all the gifts in our life,
Our nephew, our mothers, and my great wife.
Your humble birth into this world filled with strife,
And through your cross, your great sacrifice.”

As they tumbled to sleep, all snug in their bed,
Dreams of heaven (and sugar-plums) danced in their heads.

Photo by erin mckenna on Unsplash