MY CHRISTMAS MEMORY

My mother's gone now,
yet, each year at Christmas time
my mind goes back a few years
and, somehow, it seems as if she's here.

I remember happy times --
the crackling fire, the smoking stove,
the smell of fresh, boiled ham,
and a child's-eye view of nut-filled cakes --
candy cakes that set my heart a-burst with joy!

And I shall ne'er forget the dumplings and the hen,
that bird so plump and scrumptious
that let me know Christmas time was here again!

Oh, yes, our little home was filled with cheer,
although no earthly wealth was present
with twinkling lights and glowing trees.
The light was in my eyes,
the merry bell was in my heart.
And hers.

Yes, they say my mother's gone,
but in memory she's here.

I'm grown-up now.
There are youngsters in my glowing house,
a house of twinkling lights and festive bell.
Maybe, I pray, when I am gone,
they, too, may journey back to Christmas time
and find a memory good enough to tell.

Copyright © 1968 Ruth Gillis

Previously published in Tucumcari Literary Review
November/December 1994