One Christmas Eve
Attempting to await St. Nick, small Ted
lay trembling with excitement in his bed,
one Christmas Eve while all his siblings slept
(their promise to stay up with him unkept).
Like smoke that rose above his house that night
and drifted to the moon, his thoughts took flight.
He wondered (and he couldn't comprehend)
how dear old Santa ever could descend
the chimney to his house when at its base
were sparks that sputtered in the fireplace.
So as he pondered what St. Nick might do,
he left his room just as the clock struck two.
He tiptoed to the stairs where he could see
a figure on the rug nearby the tree. . .
Midst wrapping paper, boxes and a tangle
of ribbons knelt his mother. At an angle,
the firelight warmly touched her face. Her hair
showed flecks of sugar. Ted stooped on a stair
transfixed. . . The sugar looked like angel's dust!
And then he understood how long she must
have worked because the scent of cooking pies
was proof of it. Ted suddenly felt wise. . .
He realized how sweet pies could appear
like magic every Christmas. All was clear!
A single mom, this angel in his sight
began to hum the tune to "Silent Night."
Unseen, Ted lingered on the stair, content
in knowing his St. Nick was heaven sent.
(not sure if this is the "epic" you had in mind, Leonora.
but this is my submission for your contest! Merry Christmas)
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2009
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