time check, 3am…
why is everyone up?
she crawls out of her bed
tiptoes out of her bedroom
the corridors are dark
and all she has are the walls for direction
a light at the end of the corridor
just behind the door to the living room
soft Xmas carols being sung in whisper
and their they are,
below the bright Tree,
decorated with cotton as fake snow flakes
it smells fresh,
disco lights are dancing
and then her own santa
a ballon mannequin in red and white.
everyone on their knees unwrapping their gifts
gift wrappers cracking as though fire crackers
and then she joins,
her very first christmas president
a small tea cup and saucer.
she was seven years.
her heart warm with love
she had no dress, but she had a cup,
a cup to dine, to play, to share.
On her kness before the tree she knelt
said a prayer for santa
a prayer for a dress next season
and thanked God for the love. she was just seven.