Love Suffices
It is buried rather deeply
in my far away recall,
the little paper Christmas tree
we had when I was small.
It had metal candle holders
on the end of each thin bough.
How it looked when it was lighted
I cannot remember now.
Perhaps one blaze of glory
with my daddy standing by
with a bucket full of water
if the flame should get too high.
A flash of recognition
when I saw it on the show
of the antiques and mementos
from the years of long ago.
My brothers would remember,
they're no longer here to ask,
but covering it with baubles
would have been my mama's task.
I can see her bravely working,
barely holding back the tears
at the scarcity of presents
in those dark, depression years.
With the love that was wrapped with them
I doubt we children ever knew
gifts of that early Christmas
were both trivial and few.
By: Joyce 12/17/08
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