CHRISTMAS SONATA

When I was a child, I liked the candles, the cares and the cakes;

I liked the trees, the twinkling lights and the cards,

Christmas was always close to my heart,

My Saviour’s birth,  my sin’s death.

In my teenage years, I liked people wearing the best of coats and jackets;

The make-up in women’s faces- glorious and rich with red,

 I liked the Preacher’s message, the dishes and the photo shots;

Could look up above the sky to give more than, a passing glance.

Now, in my twenties I have to say that, I have never been kissed under mistletoe;

Over laden with works, worlds apart, I miss my family; I miss the childhood’s enthusiasm,

I called my mother just to say, “Ama, I won’t be home for Christmas.”

I am praying hard to fill the air with Christ’s lovely magic, to find myself jubilating in His birth.