Gifts of a Different Kind

About This Author

A changeling spirit,
constantly evolving,
revolving around an inner core,
spinning forth legend and lore,
stories and lives
as I come to grips
with who and what I am,
have been and may be.
I am a phoenix:
rising ever above and beyond!

Gifts of a Different Kind

The children had all been chased up to bed; hugged and kissed and stories read.
But they couldn't fall asleep you see because all they could think about was the tree.
For downstairs the fire glowed and ornaments shone bright on the Christmas Tree this Christmas Eve Night.
They knew Santa was coming, they'd left cookies and milk and just couldn't fall asleep in their sheets made of silk.

He went to the window to look at the snow and saw something strange by the gate far below.
It looked like a child all dressed up in rags, carrying what looked like a very large bag.
They ran for their parents who opened the door and brought in the child who just slid to the floor.
She was freezing and hungry, her lips were blue and she drank Santa's milk; ate the cookies too
.
Her bag held raggedy clothes, a torn teddy bear, a piece of a blanket, a comb for her hair.
They brought her upstairs and put her to bed. "We must make her a stocking," the mother said.
Checking that all of the children lay sleeping, downstairs they went, silently creeping.
But oh! what a sight met their astonished eyes, the waif was down there with such a surprise.

She'd filled the stockings, left presents wrapped in gold all from that bag she brought in from the cold.
She then explained she was a Christmas waif sent out to see who'd make her safe
when found in the cold and blowing snow; to see who'd invite her in or tell her to go.
Many more folks sent her cold on her way but this family had warmed her and bid her to stay.

She was leaving them gifts; giving Santa a start as she share her treasure, her giving heart.
"We didn't do anything special," Dad said. "We just did what was right," agreed Mom, nodding her head.
"You did more than most, you've got the spirit. You are teaching your children about love, I can feel it!"
She hugged them both and then went on her way to see who else would invite her in this day.

That Christmas morn dawned especially bright bathed in the love that they all shared that night.
The folks were my parents, and this story I tell of that long ago Christmas I remember so well
for I learned it's important to share and be kind for you never know just what might be left behind!
I didn't get silver or jewels brightly bold, but a leather journal for stories told.

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