Happy Holidays

   

I’m the type of person who will kind of skim around the subject of Christmas cheer. Let’s be honest here, I don’t like Christmas. Don’t ask me why, suffice it to say that I just don’t. Still, I will do what I can to not put a damper on other’s festivities.

I do find some holiday ‘traditions’ to be quite enjoyable. I love going to midnight mass, for instance. (I’ve been to mass several times, all over the world, and have always enjoyed it). I like seeing the lights on houses. And nothing beats a Christmas tree smell. (In my family we’ve never had a fake tree.)

So, in the spirit of the Holidays, I would like to share some cheer with you from my childhood. Now, this piece doesn’t really have a formal title. When I wrote it, I presented it to a group of lovely people who were participating in the Horse and Writer Conference. I told them it doesn’t have a title, but that it is a true story, and one of the people there said that should be the title. So, here it is:

“It’s  a True Story”

He turned to me with a twinkle in his eye

And said “I’m sure I’ll get him before I die.

Ever since I got that coal, the year that I turned eight,

Well ol’ St. Nick, he sure sealed his fate.”

So every winter he would plot and plan

What traps and tricks would catch the jolly man.

And to us kids he would always warn

There would be no presents come Christmas morn.

And so we grew

As grandkids do

And life turned another page.

We kids had reached the ‘truth’, along with our teen age.

At the kitchen table he sat us all down.

“He’s on to me,” he said with a frown.

We rolled our eyes

And with a sigh

He rose from his chair

And left with a heavy step upon the stair.

Down he went, then up again

Carrying a trophy from his den.

With careful glee and a heavy drop

He landed a bear trap onto the table top.

“He must’ve started carrying a knife since last time.

Now you’ve all been good, right, cause this sure is a sign.”

We kids stared at the sprung trap with dread,

For we could not reconcile that tuft of white hair

With our Grandpa’s bald head.

Happy Holidays to All!

(To this day Grandpa still chuckles when he remembers the looks on our faces when he showed us that trap.)