My Christmas Gift

"Dear Santa Claus,

Gift me a pen,

The one that draws,

For beautiful men."

My usual note for my Christmas gift,

That always covered my day and night rift.

The morning present would lay beside me,

And I'd shout out in glee.

Secretly,

Once, I discovered,

My Santa Claus was none,

But my grandparent,

Believing which was definitely an entrenchment.

The Big Day,

The Christmas Day was near,

The preparations started,

The cakes were baked,

And happiness was faked.

The lights glowed,

And the beloved life flowed.

Many were sad,

But,it was the time for,

"Joy To The World"

To take over.

An unusual year,

With hardly anyone on the streets,

The happy days were turned to a broken gear,

And there were no Christmas greets.

The young lad lost his mother,

The working girl couldn't meet his father,

The old man lost his beloved,

Many helping hands couldn't reach out to their loved,

A lot was lost,

A lot were shattered,

The year was a cursed one,

But still,

The hoping hearts wished for a grand 2021.

It was the Christmas Eve,

Wore the knitted sweater,

My granny weaved,

For me to feel the warmth better.

Like the other years,

I again beautified the rooms,

With lights,

And Mother cooked the delicious food,

As if I was one of the bridegrooms,

Father was at his work,

The rooms weren't shaking with laughter of many,

Because there were only me and my mummy.

The warmth was there,

Happiness was once again found,

But...

Something was missing.

My Secret Santa,

It was my Secret Santa who was missing,

My usual note changed,

To a pledge,

To our common Christmas Father,

"Dear Santa Claus,

Please return me My Santa Claus."

The next morning,

My gift wasn't there,

My Secret Santa didn't return,

But,

How can Santa not gift you anything on a Christmas Day?

He is Holy,

He is Kind,

He can't be like the Humans,

With a heart that's twined.

My Secret Santa,

Was too near to Jesus,

This year,

They could converse,

And reverse ,

The gifts,

To fill the rifts,

That me and my Santa developed,

The gift was a gift that showered me with blessings,

It was the realisation,

And gain of hope,

For a better tomorrow.

This Christmas,

Not a good pen,

Or a brush for paint,

Was gifted,

But the faith,

And hope,

Of a better tomorrow,

Was given.

Spreading the same gift to all,

I'd wish Merry Christmas,

To the ones I know,

To the ones I don't,

To the ones who managed to flee and meet Jesus this year,

And to everyone.

- Anonymous, 21.12.2020