Country Christmas/Tamara Hillman

My mind begins to wander 

to them days of long ago. 

I’d hear the bells on jingle-sleighs

 and feel the cold wet snow. 

My pony’d start to whinny 

with breath that I could see, 

as we rode up in the mountains

 to fetch a Christmas tree

 Our fingers were kept busy stringin’ 

berries for that tree,
popcorn, stars, n’ candles…

 it was quite a sight to see.

 I remember our log cabin 

that set down by the lake, 

and think of sacrifices
my folks sure had to make

I think about my mother preparin’ special treats,
an’ hangin’ up our stockin’s she took right off our feet. 

An’ dear ol’ Dad a workin’ta build that favored toy, 

fullfillin’ all the fancy dreams of each child, girl or boy

. I smell the goose Mom cooked us an’ taste the punkin’ pie, 

the turnip greens an’ taters piled almost to the sky 

I hear the Christmas blessin’, heads bowed before the meal, 

hopin’ all our guests agreed ‘bout how it made us feel.

 ‘

Cause we were taught the reason why we celebrate 

the Christ child bein’ born that day, it weren’t just chance nor fate. 

An’ when I hold my children, though Christmas ain’t the same, 

I’ll teach ‘em ‘bout that holy day an’ to revere His precious name. 

Country Christmas poem by Tamara Hillman. Copyright 2003 Merry Christmas and