On Christmas morning,
Standing before the tree,
Packages calling my name
from every corner of the room.
Snow has fallen overnight.
The world outside is white.
Our living room
(just a room when I went to bed)
Is now a wonderland of possibilities.
I tremble over one possibility:
I stood eyes wide before it in the toy store,
My fingers aching
Under the sign that said “DO NOT TOUCH!”
(It did not say “DO NOT DREAM!”)
Mom and Dad please see me standing here.
I am afraid to move.
(For when I return
It may be gone.)
In the weeks that followed
God, I swear I will be good for the rest of my life!
Now Dad looks at Mom with a silent question
“Which one first?”
And she looks at me
(because they have also been waiting for this moment)
“Oh, I think this one.”
Despite all the stories in church on Christmas morning,
It is Christmas trees that taught me to believe in miracles.
With the lights dancing in my eyes
And hope dancing in my heart,
I peel the wrapping ever so slowly.