A SON'S GIFT
T'was the night before Christmas,
the house was a mess
and every spare room
held an out of town guest.
The stockings were hung
and the cookies were baked,
and, oh my dear Lord,
how my lower back ached!
The children were finally
all tucked in bed.
I looked for some Asprin
to ease my poor head.
There was no time to rest
in my favorite chair,
for I still had the turkey
to stuff and prepare.
I still had some wrapping
I needed to do,
as well as some dishes
and ironing too.
I finally crawled into
my bed around three,
after placing the last of
the gifts 'neath the tree.
I had only been sleeping
for an hour or so,
when I heard a loud noise
from the room down below.
I couldn't imagine what
caused all that clatter,
so I rose from the bed
to see what was the matter.
I found, in the kitchen,
my 5 year old child.
He looked up and saw me
and sheepishly smiled.
The table was covered
with ribbon and paper,
gift tags and crayons,
tape and the stapler.
I looked at my son and said
"What's going on?
Upstairs in bed sleeping
is where you belong!
You clean this up now,
young man." I said.
"Then march yourself
right back up to your bed!"
His lower lip trembled,
his eyes looked so sad.
He whispered "I'm sorry
if I made you mad.
But, Mommy, I didn't know
what else to do.
I needed to wrap up
my present for you."
He held out the treasure
in his tiny hand,
the paper all wrapped
with a big rubber band.
"Would you open it now?"
my little one said.
"Could you open it before
I go back up to bed?"
I sighed and took the
small gift from his hand,
and quickly unwound the
big red rubber band.
I tore off the paper
and opened the box,
expecting to find
a new pair of socks.
My frustration became
almost too hard to hide
when I looked in the box
and found nothing inside.
"There is nothing in here."
I said to my child.
"Oh yes there is, mommy!"
He said with a smile.
"I filled up the box
with big kisses from me.
You can take one whenever
you need one, you see?"
My eyes filled with tears
as I held my son close.
He had given the gift
that I needed the most.
I carried my son
back upstairs to his bed;
I pulled up the covers
and kissed his forehead.
I turned out the light
and thanked God up above
for the sweet precious gift
of a little boy's love.
by K. Schaefer
