Holiday Memories: Seventh grade Christmas

Seventh Grade Christmas

Arlie Thornhill, I remember you well.

My name wasn't called. My heart fell.

What! No gift for Linda Lee!

Why isn't there a gift for me?

My face turned red. I clenched my hands.

I'd been forgotten! I did not understand.

Almost in tears, I stared at the floor.

As if on cue there was a knock at the door.

Arlie's father was there, with my Christmas gift

Wrapped in tissue paper. I felt my heart lift.

I was so relieved. I could tell it was a book.

I tore away the wrapping to take a good look

At a small paper-back Webster's DICTIONARY.

Hiding my disappointment, I thanked Arlie.

He beamed and nodded in his quiet way.

I swallowed hard. There was nothing more to say.

Many years later a thought came to me,

Why Arlie might have chosen a dictionary.

What better gift for a girl who did well in class,

From a motherless boy who found it difficult to pass.

A thoughtful gift for a girl who loved learning.

A knobby-kneed, freckle-faced girl who was yearning

For a gift of Evening In Paris to dot

Behind her ears to smell nice. Certainly NOT

A PAPER-BACK DICTIONARY! A DICTIONARY? A DICTIONARY?

Well, Arlie Thornhill, it's time to tell,

You (or your Dad) probably chose well,

Probably, maybe. While the old woman I am today

Understands, that young girl would like to say,

"I would still rather have a bottle of perfume!"

But I want you to know, there is plenty of room

In my heart to thank you again Arlie Thornhill

And to wish you Peace on Earth and Good Will Toward Men

Merry Christmas!

(The dictionary is gone, but the memory lingers on)

I would like to dedicate this poem to every woman whose husband gave her a new vacuum cleaner for Christmas!