Christmas Spirit

December 2, 2010
By Anonymous

Crisply scented air lofts from the Christmas tree
Smartly wrapped presents sparkling underneath
She wriggles underneath between packages
In her new Christmas pajamas and robe
Getting shed needles tangled in her clean hair
The anticipation has been building
Adults often whispering when they think no one can hear
But she doesn’t wonder what hides behind shiny paper and bows
That will be revealed soon enough
She knows what matters lies here underneath this tree
Gazing up through the branches and needles
Looking through her eyelashes to the colored lights
Reflecting on the homemade ornaments of craft paper and glitter
The fragile store bought decorations made from glass and tin
The silver tinsel that moves with the rhythm of her breathing
She closes her eyes to seal the memory in her mind
Promising herself that she will never forget this moment,
This Christmas, this year, this feeling
She is Christmas, has somehow become the spirit itself
And this will always be a part of her
And hers to share

The author's comments:
This past Christmas, my Grandmother was struggling with Multiple Myeloma, and had to sit through the Holidays in the Hospital as her conditions grew worse. In late January, she had passed away, and instead of just leaving, she left much for her family.
My mom recently told me of how, when she was young, my grandmother showed them what it was like to slide under a tree and look through the needle-ridden branches, and all the fun things that she had done to make Christmas the most wonderful time of year for everyone she met.
This will be our first Christmas without her, but her kindness and love for all won't be forgotten.

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