There are times for traditions and time for new activities. I believe Christmas is that time of year.
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| my pic from Christmas card |
I've been thinking about how in the world did Christmas gift-giving become so commercialized. Buy this and that and also those! Looking back at the origins of Christmas, I think the tradition can be traced back to the three wise men. After all, they brought gold, frankincense, and myrrh to baby Jesus. Useless gifts indeed! (Although I believe their hearts were in the right place.) How many of us have received or given useless gifts at Christmas time because of feeling the pressure of having to get something?
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| 📷 guvo59 on pixabay |
So this gift-giving thing is way out of hand and very unfortunate for many, especially the kids in poor families. Yeah, this is the move to the serious side here. As a kid I dreaded returning to school and hearing all the kids boast about what they got, but worse, asking me what I got.
When I wrote the poem "Discounted" ©1997, this was what crossed my mind. But also, the magic of Christmas enlightened upon me too. Because sometimes there are those out there who understand the joy of a child receiving a sweet gift, just because. God bless the hard-working parent(s) who try their best to give their children good gifts. I just wish our society (and many others worldwide) would tone it down a bit in pressuring to buy this or that, as well as those.
Keeping it simple is the best way to go. Celebrate in other ways too. After all, baby Jesus didn't need any of that gold, frankincense and myrrh. What he needed was a warm blanket, a roof over his head, and love. Isn't that something we could all use? Theresa M
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| my pic from Christmas card |
🎁❄🎄❄🎄❄🎄❄🎄❄🎄❄🎄🎁
Discounted
Her hands clutched objects colored with the season,
decorations and ribbons discounted,
as her little girl of five or so
clutched onto her mama’s dress,
clutched onto her mama’s dress,
a hand-me-down from long ago.
“Look, mama!” The child would delight
at all the toys and gifts displayed.
Saddened eyes, weary from no sleep
would look upon her child with a deep love
that was priceless - never discounted.
Half a smile she bestowed at the voice of her child,
the unsmiling half at their poverty.
Cold winds and flurries drifted in from the storefront doors
as people and packages fought their way in and out.
Discounts - sales - hurry don’t be late!
or nothing will be left for you.
Her hand-me-down dress hung to her knees
stockingless against the breeze,
Her child wore a coat much warmer than her own.
Her child was cloaked with warmth all around.
Tons of pigtails with pretty ribbons
held her dark hair in place.
Her round eyes looked at the world in awe,
her tiny hands wanted to grasp everything.
But her mama disciplined her well to know,
“We can’t pay for just anything.”
In line they stood and waited so long
as customers bought loads of merchandise.
Her turn at the counter, she laid down the decorations
green, gold, red, discounted down.
The purchases rang up to the pennies she figured
and with a half-smile she payed
and picked up her package.
A friend stood by the exit door with a smile.
she nodded, he nodded - hands extended to shake
Change passed, unnoticed to her child -
the friend would get a gift for her in secret -
Her mama always knew and never doubted
that her daughter should never be discounted.
Theresa M, ©1997
Merry Christmas to all ...
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| me and my snowman |
