Happy Birthday Jesus, Happy Birthday Mom

Come along now she'd say to me and then together we would knead 
two strong arms and a floured face, this woman had love and speed 
It was Christmas Eve, and I will never forget her zeal nor her passion 
"Where did daddy hide my birthday cake?" she'd ask with a tiny smile.
 
She was born on Christmas Eve, so that made her as close to the babe 
as anyone could get.  In those days we didn't have much money, 
mom would always give us pajamas, including dad.  
Today as I recall our tiny silver tree, I feel blessed and very glad.
It was the seventies back in the good old days of Montreal,
we were rich in tradition, wealthy with love and laughter. We had  
genuine guidance from struggling immigrants who knew the value 
of sacrifice and love. 
Later in the evening after a good plate of pasta and meatballs, dad 
would whisper in my ear, " Figlia, go get your moms cake" and 
without being told where it was, I would go to the garage and fish 
the cake out of the cantina. " Candles were lit and Christmas was 
honored in the family, Happy Birthday mom, Merry 
Christmas Jesus!

appreciationholidaymothernarrative

♡Like0

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.