The Spirit of Giving
 



One evening as I sat reading the daily news
I happened to glance across the way
We lived directly in front of an old folks home
Called assisted living facilities today

There was more activity than usual
The lobby seemed lit up extra bright
There were six older ladies and one gentleman
Socializing with each other that night

I settled back, they'd peaked my interest
A large box had appeared suddenly
They all gathered round , taking things out
'Twas the limbs of a fake Christmas tree

In no time at all, due to experience I surmised
They'd erected the stealthy plastic pine
And then stood back, to admire their work
Some clapped while others smiled so divine

To see their excitement, another box had appeared
Filled with decorations and lights galore
They put them in windows and some on the tree
Then hung a Season's Greetings sign on the door

The spirit of Christmas, so alive in their hearts
It was obvious, with all their jubilant glee
Two of them were even doing a little jig
Seemed they were doing it just for me

When the clock struck nine, the main lights went out
The seven shuffled back to their rooms
Where everything had been so festive and light
It had taken on such an eery gloom

I felt myself saddened as I went to bed that night
I couldn't get them out of my mind
Would their families come to take them home
For the holidays to spend a little time

The closer and closer it came to that day
No one showed up, not even for a visit
I spoke to my family and we all then agreed
We'd do something special in His spirit

Cards were made for each and every one
And little gift bags with some trinkets 'n such
We fixed trays of cookies, fudge and other goodies
Just to give it that special touch

We walked across the street on Christmas Eve
With the presents and things we aimed to share
To our surprise they had made little gifts for us too
In the loving spirit of giving, show someone you care



Dedicated to Tony Tankosic, Master Cobbler
And My Sweetheart



With the scent of fine leathers permeating the air
One can hear the tap, tap, tapping of his hammer
Mastering an art that many have thought of as lost
This cobbler steadfastly gives new life to shoes and such

Through the years, his hearing has been lessened
The grinding machines and sanders so loud
Indifferent to things around him as he tap, tap, taps
Engrossed in perfecting the right angles, the right curves

Heels, soles, rips, and tears....
He can repair anything, he is in command of his trade
To watch him tap, tap, tap is to admire him
Humble yet proud of his work

Toiling around the clock, he can be found
He cannot slumber when there is work to be done
Restless nights when all are asleep, he tap, tap, taps
Only when his body overpowers his mind, can he rest

Yet, this cobbler has somehow made time....
To heal my soul, mend the rip in my heart, wipe my tears
With his goodness, he has blessed me
Tap, tap, tap!





https://youtu.be/AvPophhrVMQ

By Adele Kaye

© 2017 Adele Kaye (All rights reserved)

 

Read more poems by  Adele Kaye
Send this poem to a friend
Read viewers comment(s)





The Starlite Cafe Discussion Board | Home

Back to Previous Page