‘Twas The Week Before Christmas…
‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house,
Everything was scurrying. Why, we even drove out that mouse!
Our clothing was packed in boxes with care,
In hopes that the moving truck would soon be here.
Not a jingle or a jangle or an ornament could be found.
Somewhere they were buried among the boxes that abound.
There’s furniture to buy and curtains to be hung.
No time for wrapping or Christmas carols to be sung.
There were no plans for decorating or baking, it’s true.
And while the timing seems off, it’s just what we have to do.
We’re moving that’s right, in the HEIGHT of the Holiday season.
But amidst all of this craziness, thankfully, came the quiet voice of reason.
It was born from a terrible, awful, worry.
And came to me through the words of an innocent ten-year old’s query.
“Mommy?” she whispered, as I tucked her into bed.
Lifting herself slightly and tilting her head.
“Will we have a tree this year?”
I paused and thought, ‘Oh my, Oh dear.’
Will Santa find us, in our new home, is more likely this little girl’s fear.
I had to catch my breath and hold back a tear.
I was so unprepared for her question, that it gave me a start.
Like an arrow that came rushing through, piercing me, in the middle of my heart.
There were no visions of sugar plums dancing in my head.
Thoughts of setting up cable and internet were swimming with the fact that I have no bed.
Why I haven’t had any time to entertain thoughts of the man in red.
I looked at her face wide-eyed with wonder.
How could I omit this and create such a blunder?
My girl is always so brave — wise, even bold.
I forget sometimes that she’s really not that old.
It was in that moment, I realized the importance of this.
A reminder that Christmas is something we-just-can-not miss.
So, I smiled the most reassuring smile I could muster.
Desperately trying to hide any sign of startle-ment or fluster.
“No worries sweet baby, we will have a tree.”
“Sleep tight now,” I said.”Rest easy. You can count on me.”
No matter what, come hell or high-water,
There will be a Christmas tree in my new home, for my son and my daughter.
Sometimes it’s the smallest voice that speaks quite loud,
Bringing with it clarity. Moving out the dark cloud.
Yes, sometimes it’s the smallest voice that helps you NOT to lose sight.
Be sure to hear it as it’s usually right.
So, with that I will say, Merry Christmas to all!
And to all, a good night!