The Christmas Present
It was the ninth Christmas of little Chris Junior,
the son of Vicki and Chris Blue Senior.
Gift giving over, opening presents was done,
little Chris noticed to his Mom he gave none.
Christmas this year would be distant for Vicki,
with Dad gone, Chris would have to be tricky.
Helping to clean up all the ribbons and paper,
Chris found ribbon and bow for his intended caper.
He hid the trimmings under his pajama top,
then off to a bedroom with a skip and a hop.
Entering the room, he quietly closed the door,
then sat down with paper and crayon on the floor.
Clasped the paper corners, he aligned them right,
then folded and pressed with all of his might.
Working exactly, with his tongue slightly out,
occasionally he would pause to look about.
Slowly his little fingers drew up the art.
He wanted no mistakes, like that of Mozart.
Working away, he had a twinkle in his eye,
it is times like this that money can't buy.
Now that the picture was finally through,
his words must be touching, this he knew.
The verse, he thought about long and hard,
for his mother's special Christmas card.
All at once he knew exactly what to say,
so in his best handwriting he wrote away.
Finishing the artwork, his eyes began to gleam,
he hoped his words would make her heart beam.
Little Chris then took the ribbon and bow,
and wrapped himself from his head to his toe.
The ribbon laced his chest, arms and hair,
so not to tear it, he did it with care.
But where to attach the bow to his pajamas,
so he could show his heart was Mama's?
He then knew exactly where to place the bow,
over his heart, so his mother would know.
Next, he put the card on his forehead with tape,
then looked in the mirror at his present shape.
With a small giggle he liked what he saw,
hopefully, his mom's eyes would not see a flaw.
Now, somehow he had to hide under the tree,
but, how in the world to get there, you see?
Slowly, he cracked the door to peak down the hall.
The coast was clear, he saw no one at all.
He-tip-toed barefoot onto the hall rug,
two steps out, he froze, his plan had a bug.
The entire family was scattered about,
when suddenly, from behind he heard a shout.
Uncle Will was in the back of the house,
he could see the hallway as he kissed his spouse.
He noticed a gift on tip toes sneaking.
Cute it was, to watch a present peeking.
Looking through the door, he began to think,
how could he help Chris's odds to shrink?
Looking at the floor and scratching his head,
he needed a good plan to ease a plan's dread.
Taking two steps back, he then gave a shout,
so Chris could regroup without losing clout.
Jumping, Chris dashed to safety he assumed,
closed the door quickly. Was his plan now doomed?
Chris was now safe back inside his retreat.
He could hear the footfalls of someone's feet.
Chris listened very closely with his ear to the door,
as the footsteps, finally, reached the living room floor.
When the footsteps stopped, everything went still,
hearing Uncle Will speak, his plan was downhill.
"Everyone to the kitchen for a Christmas song!"
This would give time for nothing to go wrong.
Listening close he heard the family unite,
if he were lucky, everything would go right.
He waited to hear singing in the foreground,
then tiptoed to the hallway without a sound.
He could see the family, but they not him,
for Uncle Will was blocking the sight of his trim.
Like a scared cat, he darted for the tree,
then placed himself so that no one could see.
The song then ended, but someone's amiss,
Chris was not around, for any of this.
His mama then called out, "Where is that boy?
He should be here singing our Christmas joy."
Making footsteps across the kitchen floor,
wisely Uncle Will then blocked the door.
Quietly whispering, "He is under the tree,
if you look really close, his toes you will see.
He's dressed as a gift for somebody here,
so let us play this game of Christmas cheer."
The family then gathered to watch this game,
though nervous, Chris stayed hid just the same.
Vicki called out for her missing little Chris,
"Chris, I want to give you a Christmas kiss."
As Vicki still searched for her little boy,
Chris's teeth bit his bottom lip in joy.
"Where is that boy, has he run away?
What is he up to on this special day?
Has anyone seen him, seen him at all?"
Vicki did ask while standing there tall.
Chris had his knees clutched to his chin,
hiding successfully from all of his kin.
Covered his mouth with his small fingertips,
to keep the giggles from passing his lips.
Squinted eyes sparkling with Christmas cheer,
used his arms to keep his little legs near.
Through the bulbs and needles he could clearly see,
they were looking everywhere, but under the tree.
Aunt Martha was looking under the doormat,
while Aunt Carol was looking in a Christmas hat.
Why they were giggling, he did not know,
they were watching the toes of a Christmas show.
All of sudden, he had been discovered,
his hiding place Uncle Will uncovered.
His uncle just said "Look under the tree,
there are ten little toes wiggling at me.
Did by chance a present really get lost,
a gift more precious than any cost?"
Vicki knelt down and looked under the tree,
little Chris was there trimmed to a tee.
"Oh, my goodness! What have we here?"
She said reaching in for this gift so dear.
"Where did it come from, by whom was it sent?"
she said pulling out this gift of wonderment.
Standing him up to take a good look,
noticed in his hair was an ornament hook.
Removing the card from little Chris's brow,
his happy face, she could clearly see now.
Mom gently removed the hook from his hair,
then picking him up, she moved to a chair.
Sitting she noticed where he stuck the bow,
which gave her heart a Christmas glow.
Taking the bow from where it clung to,
Chris softly said, "I give my heart to you."
A tear of joy then came to her eye,
taking the ribbon off this little guy.
While holding this precious gift in her lap,
began reading the card from her little chap.
Drawn on the front was a trimmed Christmas tree,
beneath "Merry Christmas Mom . . . Love Me."
Copyright 1995 by Gary Swancey from "The Fruitful Years" |
