Christmas Eve Under the Uintah Street Bridge

The winter winds piled snowdrifts against the old vets cardboard shack. Another homeless vet, he shared his humble abode with his doggie Zach. He pulled his tattered army overcoat about his frail frame and lay upon his back, To reminisce about Christmases past when things were not nearly as black. He recalled Christmases as a lad when family gathered about the Yule Tree, To hear the story of that First Christmas as read from Luke at his Father's knee. He mused, "How I pine fer Mother's turkey, sweet pertaters and punkin pie, The warmth of my very first love and our sleigh rides beneath the moonlit sky!" He wondered where his wife was and how the children were getting by. Alas, demon rum controlled his life and they left without saying goodbye. He shivered recalling Christmas '52 in Korea and being on the battle line, The numbing cold, death and C-rations for Christmas fare on which to dine. He was startled by the tolling bells from St Mary's Church across the way, Heralding the joyous Birth of the Savior and he bowed his head to pray, Saying, "Lord, I've hit bottom and I reckon to You I ain't of much worth, But please lend Yer ear and accept my thanks fer that little Feller's Birth!" Tomorrow, Christmas Day, he'd have dinner at the Springs Rescue Mission, And sneak a bone or two for Zach, always looking out for his nutrition! He'd abide 'neath the Uintah Street Bridge 'till the cops asked him to depart, But he'd shift his meager belongings to another in his battered shopping cart. Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (c) 2014 All Rights Reserved