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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=362201" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Early Works - The Spirit Of Christmas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The December wind howled outside <br>rattling the windows, <br>the children played on the floor <br>as the crimson glow of the fire <br>warmed the heart of the room. <br>In the corner stood a Christmas tree <br>sparingly decorated with tinsel and lights <br>but beneath were no presents in sight. <br>Jason watched his children <br>with sadness tinting his eyes <br>he knew how important <br>Christmas was to young lives. <br>He had tried to save through the year, <br>but there was always something needed <br>from the money he tried to save <br>clothes, food and shoes to wear. <br>Oh how he would have loved to see <br>them smile from ear to ear <br>instead of sadness in their eyes <br>for toys that wouldn’t be there. <br>He wished he hadn’t spent so much on petrol <br>when he was looking for a job <br>that he had walked the lonely miles <br>from refusal to rejection <br>and used the money to buy <br>his children a Christmas present collection. <br>The smiling face of his wife <br>cheered him little from his frown. <br>His thoughts were of his childhood <br>and the presents crowded around <br>the bottom of the tree, <br>of stockings filled with sweets, toys and fruit, <br>and creeping down the stairs at the first light of dawn <br>to see what Santa Claus had left. <br>Those were happy Christmases <br>not like this one so bare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The children went to bed early <br>excitement filled the air <br>with the expectancy of presents under the tree, <br>which sadly would not be there. <br>Jason and his wife waited <br>until they were asleep <br>and then filled each stocking <br>with all that they could afford. <br>Then set about arranging <br>the few presents that they had <br>before they themselves retired to their bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The silence of the night <br>was disturbed by a rustling sound <br>of old iron chains <br>being dragged across the ground. <br>No one in the house heard it <br>as in sleep they lie <br>as in crept the spirit of a slave <br>from centuries gone by. <br>The ghost climbed the stairs <br>dragging his chains behind, <br>flitted from room to room <br>as if by some design. <br>Downstairs he hurled himself <br>in a sliding fashion <br>his moans were but a whisper <br>that could be mistaken as the wind. <br>He then flew around again <br>over everywhere he’d been. <br>He flew around the Christmas tree <br>causing a few pine needles to fall <br>and as each needle hit the floor <br>a present appeared <br>until beneath the tree was no longer bare. <br>He rattled his chains again <br>this time they sounded like bells, <br>and then flew up the chimney <br>with muffled sooty yells.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The streaks of dawn broke the sky <br>the children woke with wonder <br>at the stocking on the end of the bed. <br>Stealing through the shadows <br>from the break of day, <br>they moved silently down the stairs <br>to the living room and the tree. <br>Unlike the night before <br>beneath the tree, you couldn’t see the floor <br>presents covered in multi-coloured paper <br>decorated the bottom of the tree. <br>Their faces lit up and they said <br>a lot of oohs and mees. <br>Jason woke to their joyful tones; <br>he looked at his wife in question <br>just as there came a sound <br>of laughter and running feet. <br>“Oh Mummy, Daddy <br>come see what Santa has brought.” <br>Said the little girl with golden curls <br>as she jumped up on their bed. <br>“Come and see, come and see.” <br>two other voices yelled. <br>Jason smiled and nodded <br>as the children returned downstairs. <br>With sighs, they threw back the covers <br>and followed the children down. <br>They stood in the living room doorway <br>with faces masked in question. <br>They looked at each other for answers, <br>neither had any to give, <br>just that their prayer had been heard <br>and that the spirit of Christmas <br>they now understood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>6 December 1983</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Harris">David Harris</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=362201" data-title="Early Works - The Spirit Of Christmas de David Harris" data-description="The December wind howled outside 
rattling the windows, 
the children played on the floor 
as the crimson glow of the fire 
warmed the heart of the room. 
In the corner stood a Christmas tree 
sparingly decorated with tinsel and lights 
but beneat..."></div>
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