A Christmas Without My Santa Poem by Oindrila Kar

When I was about half my present size...
And could barely look outside our windows...
Christmas here meant so much more...
Laughter, presents, a little green tree
with red baubles and golden stars...
And a huge silver wreath on the door!
'Jesus has come down to a Hindu home today! '
Thus joked my mother often on Christmas eve...
but my little self could not fathom...
Why Mr.Jesus or Santa would mind coming here...
As long as I had been a good little girl...
And kept my conscience clear!
I hung my little sock up on the sturdiest branch
of my decked up Xmas tree...
'Pray a little harder tonight! '
Dad's stern voice now full of glee...
And sure enough, Santa did come...
Every year, without fail,
My sock was full of goodies next day...
The letter from me was gone too!
The one in which I'd asked old Santa to stay...
And thus ended my Christmas almost every year,
Till Dad left us to be on a rainbow,
Or that's what my mom said, as she wiped another tear...
Santa stopped visiting from my twelfth Christmas,
My letters never left the sock...
My mom spent the day in front of her TV,
her countenance as good as a rock!
'Pray a little harder dear girl'
the memories whispered as I lay,
A grown-up child who wanted, like nothing else,
To have her Santa visit again, on a cold Christmas Day!