It was the eve before Christmas as I recall.
It was past Midnight and I was ready to fall.
The toys were all in place under the tree
I groaned aching to be in bed and free.
There was no Daddy to help me
Not even with trimming the tree.
He was off fighting a war that was not right
And I was alone this sacred night.
One last look before I climbed into bed
Then it hit me like a ton of lead.
The stockings were yet to be filled!
With aching limbs, myself I willed.
Down came three empty stockings hung near the toys
I reminded myself of past years of joys.
I remembered my Mother had done the same
For me, my sister, my brother and I felt a twinge of shame.
If she could do it, so can I.
With memories of Christmases gone by,
I began filling the stockings with a happy glint in my eye.
First came an apple, an orange to stimulate the taste buds,
Perhaps I could add each a box of Milk Duds.
Second a noisy toy or nuts to crack with sweetmeats for the taking.
Walnuts, of course to stimulate their hearing.
Ah, something to touch such as these soft pair of socks.
There have been times when I felt like giving them rocks.
Now something shiny and nice to look at
To stimulate their vision so they wouldn't be blind as a bat.
I opened the bag of Hershey's Kisses wrapped in foil
Each wrapped in shiny silver as a coil.
The fifth item and the last must be something to smell
A small bar of soap for each shaped as a bell.
As I cleared away all my clutter,
I thought I heard a voice mutter
Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight.
The above is based on a tradition I inherited from my Mother regarding items that go inside a Christmas stocking and the importance of each item. During the time I am writing about, my sons' father was away in Vietnam.
