"Mommy, where's Santa? Did he not come last night?"
Asked my 6 and my 4 year old, breathlessly waiting.
"We've tried to be good and we've tried not to fight,
and we've done all our chores 'thout complaining."
What do I tell them? Oh, what do I say?
That their food and the rent are their toys?
The hope in their eyes on this greatest of days
Breaks my heart. How to let down my boys?
A knock on the door, it's the old man upstairs
Says he saw Santa's list with a wink.
From a bag at his side he pulls three unwrapped treasures.
"Merry Christmas," he whispers then leaves.
On this greatest of days when God sent His Son to the world to be born, let's not forget how incredibly fortunate we are to be who, what, and where we are in life. If you're reading this poem then you probably have it better than literally 99% of the people on the planet. I know it's not always roses, but it could be so much worse. Please remember there are many people out there to whom Christmas is more painful than heartening. Drop off a toy, help a neighbor, give someone a ride....whatever, but remember the children and that God gave us His child for no other reason than He loves us. Merry Christmas!!!!