The intriguing magic of Christmas
Is in my early childhood recall.
It wasn't so much expected toys.
I remember them hardly at all.
"The month after this comes Christmas".
My sister and I counted down.
The magic of Christmas was coming
Into our little rural town.
The small family stores ordered early.
Mama bought gifts on lay-away.
She wanted to be sure they were paid for
Ere the coming of Christmas Day.
But it wasn't the gifts that entranced us,
It was the feeling in the air.
There were Christmas plays at church and school
In which everyone could share.
"The week after this week is Christmas".
School vacation had begun.
We could smell Christmas all over the house.
Mama's good pies and fruitcakes were done.
"The day after the day after tomorrow is Christmas".
At last it was coming so near.
We both were in hopes this would be the time
We would see Santa Claus appear.
On Christmas Eve we all gathered,
Our daddy and big brothers too,
As Mama read us the Christmas story.
The one that was always new.
And now the magic was potent,
"Tomorrow is Christmas Day".
We dreamed of toys and candies and love
And wished that the magic could stay.
By: Joyce Johnson