Grandma's House

The night was quiet the sounds of the crisp footprints pressing in the snow. We gathered together Into the old Nash we all jumped Dad was driving mama sat shotgun. We sang jingle bells My favorite was Silent Night Mama sang high while papa sang bass. Just around the bend The snow piled high in the yard The coal stoves burned hot, smells of burnt wood too. The turkey a cook'n In that big old cook stove of Grandma's Christmas Day was full of laughter and so much fun. Now as I look back I think of all those delightful memories The ones that were the best were at Grandma's house. Linda Terrell December 20, 2009