Every object, every being,
is a jar full of delight. ~Rumi

I look at the clock,

9 PM.

The room is dark,

Except for the glow of the lit Christmas tree.

I sit in a chair on this December night,

Simply gazing upon the tree,

Reflecting . . .

And

Breathing in the decorated tree’s peacefully-radiant light.

Upon a breath,

A memory sweetly dances with me.

I recall a time as a child,

A Christmas season at the house at 449.

Oh, how I loved the holiday ritual of the Christmas tree.

My dad and I would go to the Dairy Queen,

Located at 17th Avenue and 7th Street.

We didn’t purchase any ice cream.

We went to look at the fresh-cut trees.

I can see Dan Ligeno, the owner,

Standing there on a blustery-cold night,

Showing Dad and me a long-needled tree.

Dan shook the tree, dislodging some snow from it branches.

Me, I shook my head, knowing this was the tree.

We put the tree in front of the living room’s big window.

We decorated it together as a family.

Me . . . I loved to throw the tinsel on the tree . . .

Taking a handful of tinsel in my hand,

Throwing it at the tree,

And letting it land wherever it pleased.

My dad . . . his tinsel technique was a strand of tinsel at a time.

Yeah . . . every now and then,

A tinsel discussion between father and son did occur;

But very quickly the peace of the holiday season would once again emerge.

Late at night,

After the family was in bed,

I so enjoyed leaving the warm confines of my bed,

And sneaking very quietly down the stairs.

Arriving in the living room,

I’d stand in the darkened room,

Bowing before the Christmas tree.

I’d listen to the sounds of the late December night,

Feeling as though the tree was really begging me

To plug it in,

And provide me

With a special viewing of its majestic show of lights.

I’d plug in the lights,

Sit crossed-legged on the floor,

Looking up at the tree,

So in awe of it all.

And there I’d quietly sit,

Just gazing up at the lit, decorated Christmas tree,

Me in silent reverie,

Receiving in my heart,

The message of the holiday season,

Peace on Earth

And goodwill to men.

Loving you,

Robert, aka Bob

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