***Christmas At The Lighthouse***

What are your favorite Christmas memories? My childhood Christmas is seeded in my mind. Dramas and concerts at school, that always included the Nativity story, cutting the tree, tantalizing baking smells, the concentrated effort to be especially good. After all, who wants a rotten potato or a lump of coal in their Christmas stocking? 
Christmas packages began arriving in the mail around the beginning of December, glimpsed once and not to be seen again till Christmas morning. Now, instead of a large box, they were transformed into brightly wrapped gifts, presents from our aunties and uncles in England. How that must have broken my British born mother's heart each year, bringing back her special memories as well. She never let us see her tears,and never spoke of it. Nothing would spoil her children's Christmas if she could help it.  Stiff upper lip and all that! I miss you Mom...


****CHRISTMAS AT THE LIGHTHOUSE****

Christmas at the Lighthouse, 
The memories are still clear
Christmas Eve a mixture
Of excitement, and some fear.
Had we been good children?
Did elves hide everywhere?
The tree stood in the corner,
Every branch was bare!
We'd walk to church at midnight
Holding Daddy's hand
And return back home, half frozen,
Start beef frying in the pan.
Then after we ate, we'd go off to bed
And be too excited to sleep
But Daddy would give "Reindeer Forecast"
And we'd know we could no longer peek.
Up at 5, rush to the stairs,
Where stockings were bulging, and we
Could not understand why we never could hear
Him fill stockings, leave presents, then flee..
We'd clatter downstairs, then stare in great awe
At the lights and the big shiny tree.
How Santa could manage to do all he did
Was always a mystery to me.
He had little children all over the world
And lots of then must have been good.
But the magic of Christmas had me in its spell
I believed what I saw...where I stood!
Then to the presents," Oh! just what I wanted!"
Whether or not it was so
It was new, it was Christmas, there were books, and a sled
Later we'd slide in the snow.
The smell of the turkey, gravy and dressing
Wafted through the house until 3
We'd sit round the table and clean off our plates
Then we'd run to the neighbors to see
What Santa brought them, was it nicer than mine?
Oh look, here's a toy we can share!
Eat fruitcake, drink syrup, and never get full
We were happy, we didn't know care.
My memory goes back every once in a while
To those carefree and innocent days
When "little" was "lots", the gifts were handmade
Back then, at the Lighthouse, in the towns and the bays!!!

valerie