When just a small girl, I seem now to remember when,
There was a special scent of Christmas in our home,
How the Christmas evergreen’s pine perfume,
Room to room, would seem to roam.
Even sounds seemed different back then,
Then they do somehow today,
Don’t know if it’s because I’ve grown accustom to them,
Not filled with that child-like excitement,
In my remembered, childhood Christmas way.
Maybe it’s because the nest is empty now?
Of my children’s laughter and joy,
Somehow that’s what Christmas Day sounds should be,
Filled up with little children,
All playing with their Christmas toys.
So when on Christmas morning,
As they all would rise,
They’d all run down to view the miracle,
Of Santa’s Clauses’ big surprise.
Then mom would brew some hot cocoa up,
Float some tiny marshmallows on their tops,
And every child would place their presents aside for awhile,
While they drank up every luscious drop.
Then all the relatives would arrive,
And share in the Christmas feast mom always had,
This is what I remember
All the joy the scents of Christmas
That always made me glad.
By: Linda Winchell