Twas the Morning of Christmas

Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house
A ruckus was a brewing that would scare a mouse.
The stockings scattered there and who knows where
The time for presents, soon to be here.

The children yelling and screaming, nearly losing control.
With smiles on their faces, hoping not for coal.
Momma in her robe, I not wanting to move,
Hiding under the covers, just a minute more if they approve.

When downstairs arose a tremendous shout
I fell out of bed, not knowing what it was about.
Down the stairs I rush and trip,
Falling on my face and bruising my hip.

I picked myself up, remembering the night before
Was it a dream, or was it really more?
A little man in a bright red suit,
White hair, a beard and a jolly belly to boot.

Now Molly!  Now Meggan! Now Mark and Seth!
Now Joshua! Now Jaden! Here Tara and Beth!
To the living room floor, quiet one and all
Find a place to sit, before I climb the wall.

I sat there in silence, Momma passed out the gifts.
She handed me a package, then kissed me on the lips.
A smile on her face, a twinkle in her eye,
Did she know the secret? Did she know who I spied?

It seemed so real. No way it could be a dream.
I could smell his pipe.  I heard the sounds of his team.
The presents he left, still under the tree.
No way I imagined it. What else could it be?

The presents dwindled, one by one.
The very last gift, Momma handed to our youngest son.
The kids all excited, full of glee,
Momma’s duties near done, took a seat next to me.

She sat there quietly. Wishing the time to be frozen
This time and place, just a bit of Heaven.
By the look in her eye, had something on her mind I knew
Her love for traditions, was something of value.

Not a word she need speak, just a finger to her lips.
She took our Bible from the table, the pages she did flip.
To the Book of Luke, the pages she turned
To the story of the Manger did we return.

A baby born by virgin birth,
A child that came to die for this earth.
A baby boy for which Wise Men came.
A child for which angels did exclaim.

As the words Momma read, flowing from her heart
The story we all knew, a role in which we had a part.
For it was for us you see, every girl and every boy
Salvation assured, no force can destroy.

We all must remember, at this time of year,
What is the meaning of Christmas, what do we hold dear?
Old Saint Nicholas, so long ago did he know,
Christ is the reason, on Earth God’s love did show.

So as we pick up the balls and games, the clothes and toys
We would be good to remember the Christmas joy.
The child that came to save, that first Christmas night
A child that brought the world goodness and light.

I leave you with one final word I would like to say
A Happy Christmas to all and to all a blessed day.

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    Meggan Sommerville

    Meggan Sommerville is a Christian transgender woman with a heart for educating others about the transgender community and her faith in her Savior, Jesus Christ. Her career life has taken her on a variety of adventures, from being a veterinary technician in the Western burbs of Chicago to being an EMT/Paramedic, EMS instructor, and a paid on call firefighter for Bolingbrook , Illinois. Since 1998, she has been the frame shop manager for a national craft retailer. You can contact Meggan via email at Transgirlatcross@aol.com or find her on Facebook at Trans Girl at the Cross

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