Christmas at Eight


He's a big boy now as he stops half way.
He's been here before on this magical day.
No doubt in his mind what he'll find 'round the tree.
"Santa's been here! He left this for me!"

He speeds to the tree. He's focused now.
There's paper flying and shaking of bough.
First one then another, the packaging rent.
Exposing his treasures, but only a hint.

When all are exposed, he surveys the site.
Still amazed this delivery came just last night.
Then slowly with care he moves closer to one.
Knowing that this day will be filled with fun.

The system he uses is quite a surprise.
Just what is it that catches his eyes?
He'll play with one for hours, it seems,
Before approaching the next item of his dreams.

He will open the next then play for a while.
Move to another with a remarkable smile.
Move on again, and then maybe back.
Many packages open, some not a crack.

But he knows what he wants as he presses on.
Giving his attention as if he's always known,
Which toy will be the next one to pick.
These wonderful gifts from a saint named Nick.



January 3, 2000