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"Memories of a Christmas Ornament"

I remember as a child,
looking out of my window-
at the virginal white powder-
that covered the ground below.
And the bright twinkling lights-
on the homes all aglow.
And the strong solemn trees-
with branches full of snow.

I can still hear mother’s voice-
calling up to me.
It was time to go downstairs-
and be with my family.
I would bound down the stairs-
and the first thing I would see-
in the corner of the room-
the bejeweled Christmas Tree.

It was decked out in ornaments.
Shiny, glassy, and gold.
Except for the one made by me.
Still new, it already looked old.
Made of construction paper,
the glitter made it bold.
Hung on the branch by yarn.
“Your mother loves it.” I was told.

I didn’t believe it then.
At least, that is my recollection.
But I believe it now-
based on my own ornament collection.
For amongst all my decorations-
the ones I hold in affection-
are the ones made by my children.
To me they are perfection.

Throughout my home on Christmas-
are scenes of the Nativity,
lights, mistletoe, and angels,
and pictures of my family.
And there in the corner-
a brightly lit Christmas Tree-
hung with all the ornaments-
my children have made for me.

© Copyright 2009 Heather Bahnmaier. All Rights Reserved.

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