His Tradition

I remember sleepless nights. Waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. Candles in the window, glowing lights. Wondering what presents I would receive. There was nothing that could compare. To the excitement of waking on Christmas Day. Knowing that St.Nick had been there. I had heard the bells of his sleigh. My brother and I ran down the stairs. Both wanting to be the first to see. What we would find, so aware, of what was under our Christmas Tree. So many gifts, so many years, trying to keep our tradition alive. But life brings change, with change tears. The wonders of childhood, don't always survive. I moved away, my brother stayed. He could not leave the home of his heart. His tradition would not be betrayed. He would not allow it to come apart. Every year, Christmas remains the same. He has made time stand still. Recreating Christmas, his favorite game. He has not left"Toyland", and he never will.