Study with me on the week before Christmas ❤️ Math, chemistry and biology | studytee
The week before Christmas
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T’was just a week before Christmas,
When all through the house
Nothing was done
I felt like a louse.
The stockings were dirty
No chimney we had
But I knew St. Nick
Would come, like a good dad.
The dogs were nestled
All snug in our bed
While visions of rawhides
Danced in their heads.
Wearing my fleece nightie
I just couldn’t sleep,
While out of my hubby
There wasn’t a peep.
I tossed and I turned
Lists filled up my mind
With goodies to bake
I wondered what kind?
I knew that my energy
Would just go so far
So I had to decide
What was spectacular?
Strudel spread with jam and raisins,
Fudge rich with chocolate and nuts,
Lemon bars that bite the tongue,
Maybe a cake thick with coconut?
The prime rib was in the freezer
Since I’d bought it on sale,
To be served with creamed potatoes,
Root veggie casserole and all that it entailed.
Had I remembered the yeast
For orange-frosted cinnamon rolls,
Raisins tucked into the folds,
Devoured with sausage breakfast casserole?
Did I forget anyone on my list?
Either relative or friend,
That special toy for a child,
Unleashing childish joy they comprehend?
Christmas is one special time
I wish my body was whole,
But I’m stuck with the one I’ve got,
Thankfully, I have the same ol’ soul.
I didn’t realize through the years
How much life was teaching me.
Did I think wisdom and fortitude
Would arrive via C.O.D.?
It’s one long journey
From then until now
To just know, “How?”
How do I make it through a bad day?
Will tomorrow be better than this?
If this pain is my future,
Will I ever know bliss?
When I looked in the mirror
I saw a round-faced Mrs. Claus
Thanks to years of prednisone
I’m no longer who I was.
Instead of looking like Barbie
I’m more a shriveled apple doll
But just like you, I’m still me,
So find your true self, without the folderol.
Move as much as you’re able
Take the medicine you must
Like Helen Hayes said,
“If you rest, you rust.”
So spring to your sleigh
To life give a whistle
Float through the holidays
Like the down of a thistle.
-Sue Falkner Wood
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