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