Once again on the week behore Christmas I find myself lost amid old memories, problems of the present... and the dificulties of living in this (at the very moment) place in history where in seconds news is flashed, reflashed, disected and rehashed within the blink of an eye.
So.. I decided to try and go back to a much nicer time, a time when life was simple and the holidays were something to look forward to...times to remember in your heart with joy! Here is a repost from last year...but some things to think about. I question...are we living in better times???
I painted the above picture for a Christmas card in 1995 and wrote the poem to go with it. The story came from discussions with the old members of our little community group who shared their remembrances of "Christmas Past".
They are all dead now... but like on old clock I have turned my mind back to that year and leave the poem to you as my Christmas blog and my hope for a quiet and warmer future built on love...not hate....on families....not presents and shopping...and on love for your neighbor!
Going to Grandma’s for Christmas
Going to grandma’s for Christmas,
A very special day.
Through the city, past the suburbs,
Out the country way;
Past the now frozen pond,
Where children skate and sled;
While moms and dads look on.
As we approach the old farm house’
With barns in red and white;
I feel a glow of warmth,
In just picturing the sight,
The front door swinging open;
As waves and cheers abound.
It seems a million years ago,
Last Christmas came around.
The tree in its shining hour;
Standing in the hall,
So it might stretch to its fullest height,
And run from floor to floor.
Grandma’s fresh baked cookies,
Cooling by the stove;
And gingerbread decorated,
With swirls, and dots, and love.
The goose stuffed and waiting;
Cranberries and popcorn strung;
The neighbors gathering at the door,
Singing carols just for fun.
After all the presents,
Are unwrapped and tucked away;
I slip upstairs to Grandma’s room,
To kneel with her and pray.
Then curled up in a feather bed,
So snug and fluffy warm;
I feel at ease with all the world;
And safe from any harm.
No matter how many years come and pass away,
Grandma and the country,
Will be the heart of my Christmas Day!
Thanks for your poem and painting, Mary. It makes sense to look to all the wonderful traditions of the past for reassurance when the present is so confusing and frightening. Central NY is lucky to have you to preserve our traditions for us. We have to keep our roots strong in order to keep growing. Merry Christmas! MeredithReplyDelete
Thanks Meredith..comments like this make it worthwhile....Delete