JUANITA GARCIA VERA

Juanita Garcia Vera

THE CHRISTMAS GIFT

It was the coldest night

December Twenty Fourth …

I was running

Around the house

As the cold wind blew

Through the crevices

Of the bare wood floor

A blast of icy wind

Cut like a knife my feet,

Skin, into my soul

Felt like broken glass

That cut deep

Made me so cold

It whistled from the

Rafters and

Through the gaps

Of the windows and doors

One small heater

And the stove and oven on

Hardly, took the edge off

The cold wind blowing

It was Christmas Eve

And family and friends

Had come to celebrate

We nestled around

The  fire

That father had lit

While we listened intently

To the elders speak

Going around the circle

They reminisced of life

And their memories

I could feel the crisp air

Biting my face

A clear, star filled sky

And full silver moon

Filled me with wonder

As the spirit moved through

The men remained sitting

Around the warm fire

Talking, laughing, telling

Tales of adventure and dreams

While we ran

Without care

Playing tag and

Hide and seek

In open fields

Whilst women worked

Long into the evening

Cooking the Christmas Meal

At midnight

We all gathered

As the gifts were given

One apple, one orange

One toy for little ones

Clothes or shoes for the older child

Peanuts, pecans and candy

Enough food to partake

And fill our appetites

While Christmas music played

It was the best Christmas

I had ever had

I had my mother, father,

Sisters, and brothers,

Family, friends

We sat about laughing,

Talking, just hanging around

The cold hardly bothered,

At all, as we huddled close

I always

Remember that day

Long ago

The time we had little

Yet had much to give

So much to be thankful for

For the gift was most precious

That we had received

It was family and friends

Not money or things

© Juanita Garcia Vera