Fond Memories

through the window i peered intricate layers of lace painted by old man winter obscured my view of any visible signs the snow outside was deep but the emotions inside ran deeper i remember waking Christmas morn empty plate and cup littered the sink fancy gifts. delicately placed beneath the now silent tree giggles of children covered the sounds of ripping paper being scattered about beneath the layers of red, green, gold, topped with only a bow, i recall that doll trying to summersault her way over to me (better than i ever could) little “tumbelina” the only gift i wished for, the only thing that seemed to matter that Christmas day to a child who still believed in the magic of santa, his reindeer and sleigh