At Christmas Time

We used to roll huge balls of snow across the fields,

And throw snowballs at each other,

Like sworn enemies on different sides of the battle field.

There’s something magical about these little pieces of frozen water falling from the sky,

at Christmas time.

We used to sing Christmas carols,

And make gingerbread houses,

And drive down to Portland for the holidays.

We visited all the waterfalls and museums.

And finished our Christmas shopping.

There’s something magical about getting lost in the bright city lights at night,

at Christmas time.

We used to decorate the tree,

A tree so mighty that I had to stand on a chair,

And tip toe to put on the ornaments.

It was a great big task,

But all worth it at the end.

There’s something magical about these sparking ornaments,

at Christmas time.

On the last day of school before the holidays,

We would prepare a tray of brownies for all of our friends,

And wear Santa hats,

And watch performances,

While sucking on candy canes and exchanging presents.

There’s something magical about celebrating with friends,

at Christmas time.

But I sit here wondering,

Wondering if I can still roll snowballs across the fields,

Or have snow battles,

Or build gingerbread houses,

Or suck on candy canes,

When I’m not so little anymore?