Letter to Santa

Recently while looking through my folder of poetry, I came across this poem that I saved many years ago. It sends a message that will forever touch my heart. I hope that it touches yours just as deeply.

Letter to Santa

Snowflakes softly falling,

Upon your window play

Your blanket snug around you,

Into sleep you drift away.

I bend and gently kiss you,

When I see that on the floor

There's a letter neatly written

I wonder who it's for.

I quietly unfold it,

Making sure you're still asleep,

It's a Christmas list for Santa...

One my heart will always keep.

It started just as always

With the toys seen on TV,

A new watch for your father -

And a winter coat for me.

But as my eyes read on,

I could see that deep inside

There were many things you wished for

That your loving heart did hide.

You asked if your friend Molly

Could have another Dad.

It seems her father hits her

And it makes you very sad.

Then you asked, dear Santa

If the neighbor down the street

Could find a job, that he might have

Some food and clothes and heat.

You saw a family on the news

Whose house had blown away,

"Dear Santa send them just one thing,

A place where they can stay.

And Santa those four cookies

That I left you for a treat -

Could you take them to the children

Who have nothing else to eat?

You know that little bear I have,

The one I love so dear?

I'm leaving it for you to take

To Africa this year...

And as you fly your reindeer

On this night of Jesus' birth,

Could your magic bring to everyone

Good will and peace on Earth?

There's one last thing before you go...

So grateful I would be...

If you'd smile at Baby Jesus

In the manger by our tree. "

I pulled the letter close to me,

I felt it melt my heart.

Those tiny hands had written

What no other could impart.

"And a little child shall lead them,"

Was whispered in my ear

As I watched you sleep on Christmas Eve

While Santa Claus was here.

Author Unknown

I am from Aprons

I am from aprons, from Blueing

and woodstoves and hanging

clothes on the clothes line.

I am from rolling farmland

where I ran through the fields,

played in the hay mow

and waded in the creek.

I am from the Earth.

I am from lilacs,

dried hay and beefsteak tomatoes.

I am from maple trees and snow apples.

I am from maple syrup

the sweet taste of spring.

I am from family Christmases,

Thanksgivings, pioneer thriftiness

and chasing fireflies on a summer night.

I am from Bert and Candace,

William and Maude,

Fred and Margaret.

I am from family bonding and love.

I am from working hard and being honest.

I am from sobriety and abstinence

and money is precious, as is water.

I am from God,

standing beside Grandma in church

and hymns that have been familiar

since infancy.

I am from homemade soap and

ice cream, gardening

and a one-room schoolhouse.

I am from Ireland and Ontario,

potatoes and strawberry shortcake

with a woodbox behind the woodstove

where piglets were kept in a box

to keep them from freezing to death.

I am from tea, homemade soup,

made from scratch bread

and cinnamon rolls,

rabbit and squirrel stew,

venison and moose meat.

From the soldier

who landed on the beach at Dieppe,

far from home and loved ones.

He was just a boy

but became a man on that beach

When he was wounded

and held his dying friend in his arms

as his life blood seeped into the sand.

I am from the grandmother

who birthed six children at home,

the mother who gave birth to me

after 30 hours of intense labor

and my twin

who didn't survive.

I am from a shoebox

in the sideboard,

a purple heart

and strong independent women.

From black and white

and faded color photos

of days of long ago

that will never be forgotten.

by Mary M. Alward

I saw this over at Paula's On A Rainy Night and thought it would be fun to do. It is all about our roots. If you would like to participate, check HERE for the template.

The House of Love

Light shimmers in the windows

From the candles on the sills

Flowers fill the yard with fragrance

At the house upon the hill.

Twilight drops a purple veil

Through the early morning haze

I stand down in the valley

And at the house do gaze.

Its shutters hang at angles

The roof needs some repair

But the essence of that house

Is love beyond compare.

I hear the children's laughter

Ringing through the halls.

Excitement, giggles, joy,

Seem to echo off the walls.

I dream of happier times

Of those days of long ago

Back to childhood dreams

A place I'd love to go.

Grandma cooking in the kitchen

Mother hanging up the clothes

The oil lamps at night

And reading by their glow.

Grandpa throwing down the hay

Dad shoveling the coal

The fragrances and sights

Are a blessing to my soul.

Though all of that is now long past

I go back to visit there

For my mind holds all the memories

Of those who truly cared.

My childhood was a blessing

Thanks to God above

I'll forever savor memories

Of the house built out of love.

Copyright © by Mary M. Alward

All Rights Reserved

Original Art by Marty Bell

Graphics by Dreamwork Designs

Sunset

Sunset

The sun sinks low on the horizon

Giving off a golden glow,

Shadows dance upon the ripples

As the waves to shore do flow.

Reflections show the sun's real beauty

In the shadows of the night,

As the screaming gulls head shoreward

Wings that shimmer while in flight.

Waves are lapping oh, so gently

As I walk upon the sand,

Make the most exquisite music

Part of nature's wondrous band.

How I love to walk the shoreline

When the sun is sinking low,

Seeing all of Earth's raw beauty

This is nature's greatest show.

copyright © 2008

Mary M. Alward

Please do not use without permission.