Christmas “Magic”
Howls a frigid northern wind
swirling blizzard solid fluff
Barren-swept plains belie
tranquil valleys’ deep drifts rough
Snow sleds fly and ice skates
clatter for those just tough enough
Cedar logs pop mixed hickory
sweet smoke in a cozy fire warmer
Moans icy winter storm complaints
in high eaves of house dormers
Bright eyes and wide smiles
foretell expectations of child charmers
Bedazzled Christmas tree with
tinsel and ornaments and colored lights
Bethlehem star adorns its
pinnacle setting a-glow spirits holiday bright
Myriad presents spread ’round its
skirt celebrate love’s generous “sight”
Wish I may, wish I might, get
that special something from old Santa Claus
Been a good child, behaved well
and honored quite true all of those laws
Even added a subtle hint in the
letter for a live gift with four furry paws
Of course, I don’t mean to demand
or seem ungrateful for a perfect time
Just, “Careful what I wish for”,
asked for ten cents and got a shiny new dime
Not to focus on a bronze bell
when what I truly enjoy is its pleasant chime
Celebration causes all to become
kids excited for surprising neat presents
One time each year we freely live
life independent in pure human essence
A secret “Peace on earth, good
will to men” located in Christmas “Presence”
What be that magic which causes
black wand’s pretty assistant disappear?
Or from his vacated shiny top hat
a white hippity-hop rabbit reappear?
Or intellectual audience-fool
duped to celebrate with a boisterous cheer?
Once I did rhyme for that unique
one awesome gospel crooner king
“Why can’t everyday be like
Christmas?” in words did he sing
Replied I, “It is, indeed, for
any who dare to live such a thing!”
All are precious in His sight,
special blessed in His wondrous way
Life might be a game of awesome
adventure-event, please, let me play
I promise, Lord, praise, honor,
glory offered to Thee each cherished day
My Santa mantra: To give love
freely! A most important secret pleasure
To each, a running-over cup
becomes true meaning of equal full measure
That comfort warmth, tender
affection, confessed open-secret treasure. Amen!
Merry
Christmas!
Prologue
(from Christmas Magic book)
Somewhere along the time continuum,
generally, a scant sojourn in tender years, usually, and, hopefully, within
that first dozen, or so, the myriad helter-skelter pieces of the big jigsaw
puzzle begin to join, to coalesce of their own accord, as it were, to suddenly
illuminate in a surprising understanding of previously never-contemplated
enigmas; only vague variance vagrancies out there on the dim periphery of cognizance
in the still developing mind’s intellect. But, then, in a seeming instant, TRUTH dawns; the blinding of the
constant dazzling in its simplicity, loving in its sweet embrace. Perhaps,
even, a bit overwhelming and, maybe, only slightly, disconcerting. The reality
of constant truth often challenging, certainly, curious.
But---Salvation! For the player; to the
world order. Indeed!
If it be only “your” truth which is
sought, every little thing in its assigned, proper place according to the
“important” design, one’s own, like: planned lives, schools, careers, postal
codes, vacations, even, so the rumor goes, God forbid! Marriages!??? No! Say it
isn’t true!
And? Why? Control! In all its various
evil masquerades: pride, jealousy, envy, sacrilege.
While others, some, actually and truly
find humble living ways to evoke the pleasure. Truly, the joy of living is in
the journey, for those blessed to live: Thy will be done! Amen!
One arrival point on this sacred rail
line adventure is called: Generosity! A little berg with a huge heart open with
an insatiable capacity for selfless love to one and all. On its wide Main
Street just west of an alabaster pale full moon and a bit south of a high noon
sun is a quaint little shop chock full of special delights for all the curious
good little girls and boys. It is called:
Christmas Magic!
Christmas Magic!
(An excerpt from the book: Christmas Treasures)
After a while, we trekked back to the
house where Z. Tyler retired to pleasant dreams and I sipped hot tea as Ella
warmed my feet and I scratched Goldie’s ears. Zoe, our calico house cat, lay on
the sofa end nearest the fireplace, pretending un-interest in the dogs’
trespass into her domain, truly aloof as only a feline aristo-“cat” can be in
the presence of interlopers. Nanny came and sat in the recliner next to my
rocker; we fell asleep there, each in the other’s thoughts, holding hands.
Trapped droplets of moisture in the cedar logs exploded in miniature fireworks’
pops and crackles, sending showers of sparks up the chimney; the comforting cedar
fragrance as pleasant to the senses as was the warmth of the cozy fire to the
body.
The girls were up a six. Giggling and
laughing with the exuberance of youth hyper-extended in the anticipation of
Christmas Eve; surreptitiously, they plotted their clandestine attack. Each
armed with a feather pillow, they burst into Z. Tyler’s room, caught him still
asleep and pummeled him in a loving assault. Moaning and groaning with faux yelps
of “stop”, he playfully captured each girl, holding them as best he could while
tickling and whacking each with his own soft-stuffed case; there would be no
declared winner in this mock contest, yet each would take away memories of a
loving battle shared victory. Real combatants didn’t hug and kiss like this.
Nanny danced around the kitchen putting
together a delectable breakfast for the marauding horde, showing little effort
in her pleasing endeavor. I heard her impish laughter filter forth several
times as her youthful desire to join the melee belied her stern admonition, shouted
to the ceiling and through the floor to the bedroom battleground above her.
“You all calm down, now! I mean right
now this minute! Santa Claus is watching!”
That added rejoinder was wasted on the
troop, and, she knew it even as she spoke the words. There was no containing their
youthful spontaneity, not today, nor any other; truth be told.
As she giggled her vacant admonishment,
I laughed. No one took her infrequent attempted sternness, seriously; not even,
Nanny, herself. I seemed surrounded by saints and angels.
When Nanny had completed preparing the
meal, we all managed to get seated and somewhat curtailed the cacophonous party
to a near-acceptable college roar, I announced, to a somewhat attentive
audience, that Z. Tyler and I had to run an errand for some last minute
shopping.
Immediately came the torrent: “Can I
go?” “Me, too?” “Me, three?” Followed by an excited laughter from the excited threesome.
“Now, girls,” Nanny intervened. “I need
you to help me decorate the parlor.”
“But, the tree is already up,” protested
Lexi.
“Yeah!” Lamented the “Little Professor”,
Lauren, pushing her academia-looking glasses back in place on her button nose.
“And, it’s been up for two weeks because Bapa can’t wait.”
Teasing giggles escaped the throng as
three pair of not-so-innocent eyes surveyed Bapa.
“Yeah!” parroted Lexli Lu.
“Yeah!” echoed Annie Rie.
“If I had my way, children,” the old man
interposed, defensively, “every day would be Christmas! Every single, blessed
day!”
“I think that you already believe it is,”
intoned Z. Tyler, quietly. Playful smiles broadened at the attestation;
everyone knew that it was true.
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