Pacificmelody's Blog

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For The Children In My Life

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Christmas Tree

Christmas lights drape every window

Though there’s not a hint of snow

I could hear the church bells ringing

As I hung the mistletoe

Familiar songs play everywhere

And signs count down the shopping days

Santa’s enthroned in his big red chair

At the mall while elves fill up his sleigh

Even Ebenezer Scrooge would smile

To see the happy children’s faces

The reindeer will fly for many a mile

As through the night dear Santa races

Bringing stockings, gifts and Christmas joy

To fill the hearts of each girl and boy!

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Memories Of My Mother

Mother and child

Mother and child

I remembered my mother so vividly just now,

As I zipped up the front of my long green robe.

A gift from her one merry Christmas morning,

I remember how I loved the color, its depth,

The feel of the velvet soft between my hands,

Though no softer than the cheek I kissed in thanks.

I remember her weekend visits.

We would rise whenever we pleased, and

I would fix her eggs just the way she liked them.

Later we would linger over coffee and our

Favorite board game, “Upwords”. She would

Make up words, insisting that I look them up in my

Ginormous dictionary, and we would laugh when

Sometimes she was right, and she would laugh

At all my silly jokes and we were happy as

We sat in our pretty robes and sipped our cooling

Drinks and enjoyed each other’s company.

As these memories come flooding back,

I embrace them, with all of their

Pain and joy, and wrapping my arms

Around myself I am, for a moment,

Clasped in my mother’s arms once more.

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One of My Favorite Small Miracles

Replica of Faberge egg.
Image via Wikipedia

Shortly before Christmas two years ago, I was taken tree shopping by my friend, Rick. He and his wife, my dear friend, Sandi, had bought their tree there the day before. It was a Christmas tree farm, so off we went, saw in (his) hand, to find the perfect one. It didn’t take long before I found it, and while Rick was chopping away, I wandered around, mentally decorating my tree.

A flash of brilliance caught my eye and I moved toward it, focusing on the spot where I’d seen the light. I stooped down and saw that someone had sawed down another tree, quite close to the ground, and the stump had coated its wounds in a concentric circle of sap, which then dried to a perfect, translucent amber. And there it was, lovely as any Faberge egg, lying humbly in the dirt and only revealed by a “chance” beam of sunlight and my glance in that direction.

Thought for the Day: Be careful what you say; the Universe is always listening, and it has a sense of humor even quirkier than mine.

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