Friday, December 24, 2010

The Truth About My Grandfather

I truly loved my grandfather when I was very young.
But I didn't know he was a man about whom songs were sung.
One day as I was missing him while hanging tinsel on a tree
My mother sat me down and told this tale to me.

A true, true tale, A Christmas story
Told without much pomp and glory
Told to me as I tell to you
My Christmas story, totally true.

My grandfather, my mother's dad
Never did much to make her sad
Except one thing she could not believe:
He was never home on Christmas Eve.

He had a business selling clothes
Lots of these and lots of those
A business that sure kept him hopping
When people did their Christmas shopping.

So he'd stay there late on Christmas Eve.
No, he wouldn't budge and he wouldn't leave
He didn't want to let them down
When all those people came to town

To shop for gifts, both large and small
He'd stay all night to help them all.
But he wasn't home, you see
He wasn’t where she hoped he’d be.

So they'd cook and clean and dream and sing without him.
They'd go to church on a midnight clear without him.
And finally, when they came home, he'd be there with no warning.
Tired and happy. Glad to see them. Home for Christmas morning.

But he was not the only early morning Christmas guest,
While they'd been gone, someone else about the house had messed.
Hanging stockings, leaving gifts, and lighting lights on a tall, tall tree.
They'd ask him and he'd answer:  "It was like this when I got here. Oh, no, it wasn't me."

One year, about a week before the Christmas holiday,
My mother was doing something that we all do to this day.
Digging deep into a closet to see what she could see
A Christmas snoop was what she was. That's what she said to me.

Just as she reached the very back, she saw an amazing sight.
A pair of black and shiny boots and a red suit trimmed in white.
A hat, a scarf, a pair of gloves and a little tiny bell.
She knew the man who wore those clothes. She knew him very well.

I truly loved my grandfather when I was very young.
But I didn't know he was a man about whom songs were sung.
One day as I was missing him while hanging tinsel on a tree
My mother sat me down and told this tale to me.

She never told the tale again and she didn't have to tell
That on every Christmas Eve she listened for that tiny bell.

So every year, on that same day, I wait until it's night
And go outside and listen to the twinkling starlight.
I listen for a tiny bell
And I think you know the cause.
I listen for him coming home.
My Grandfather, Santa Claus.

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