Christmas Is … is a poem I wrote during an exercise for a writers group in 2005.
Christmas is the 25th of December. It is a day when the land is covered with snow. It is a day filled with rain and sunshine. It is a day bitterly cold and a day you can wear a sweatshirt while outdoors.
Christmas is a day to gather eggs and milk the goats.
Christmas is a joyful day with great cheer among family and friends. It is a day of family squabbling and fighting. A day when one reaches out to a stranger to lend a helping hand, and a day when thieves take and murder/suicides are committed.
Christmas is a day when children are overcome with happiness with the treasures they receive. It is a day when children suffer great hardships and horrors unimaginable.
Christmas is a day of births. It is one week before the birth of my son.
Christmas is a day of deaths. It is one week before the death of Aunt Emily, and six days after the death of Aunt Ruby and Nanny.
Christmas is a day of weddings. It is the day my nephew Glenn attended his first South Korean wedding.
Christmas is a day of giving and sharing and satisfying the needs of the ones you love. It is a day of greed and taking and consuming all that one can. It is a day of overindulging.
. . . Christmas is just like any other day of the year. Except at times, it is a day of reaching extremes whether they are joyful or sad, good or bad.
Still, it is just a day. One I can gladly say comes only once a year.