By Ninevah J. Willis © 1988
Issue: December, 1988
I won't be going home for Christmas
Mom and Dad are no longer there
I have no place to go to -
There is no one to care.
I think of other Christmases past
In an old log house I spent -
Where all that Santa had to bring was
An orange and two sticks of peppermint.
Mom and I decorated the kitchen with
Greenery carried from the woods,
Mixed with the odors of farm living -
Made the buckwheat cakes taste good.
Mom washed the black yarn stockings
That she had knitted with care;
She hung one on a nail by the fireplace
Saying Santa would soon be there.
When I awoke on Christmas morning
I breathed a silent prayer
As I rushed to look in my stocking
To see what Santa could spare.
I never was disappointed
Because I knew before I went
That Santa had left in my stocking
An orange and two sticks of peppermint.
I'll see my grandson this Christmas
I'll frantically rush to keep him content.
He wouldn't know what to do with
An orange and two sticks of peppermint.