The Real Truth
A True Story |
It happened the Christmas when I was eight
all the kids at school said he was a lie.
I came home that day, in such a sad state
that all I could do was sit down and cry.
“I’ve seen him!” I sobbed to my brother Jim.
“With elves all ‘round, on a throne, at the mall!
Other kids were scared (I wasn’t!) of him.
He chuckled merrily ‘Come one, come all!’”
Jim reached in his pocket, pulled something out.
“This is the quarter he gave me last year –
I see in your eyes, that you have some doubt.
I got up for water and he was here.”
“We talked a few minutes and then he said
‘Remember I’ll never pass up this house.
Now Jimmy, you’d better get back to bed.’
And so off I went, quiet as a mouse.”
“When they laugh and lie about him at school
You’ll know they’re wrong ‘cause I showed you the proof.
Just smile to yourself and think ‘What a fool!’
For deep down inside, you know the real truth.”
Did he know then what relief I would feel,
from a quarter he had in his pocket?
My brother convinced me, Santa IS real
and all these years I’ve never doubted it.
December 17, 2017
Word painting with Myrna D (Myrna)
By Nita G Isenhour
© 2018 Nita G Isenhour
(All rights reserved)