A Christmas Poem/By Art Hyde

A Christmas Poem

Years are packaged in months, days, hours and minutes.

Who is to say that time is a given?

Perhaps the lone snowflake that falls on a child’s eyelash for the first time, then produces a smile or a chuckle, is a memory so precious that it becomes the foundation of a life.

A memory lost in time but so wonderful that it some how shapes a personality with warmth and honesty.

So much that all else is pale in comparison as tender years turn to dusk.

And what is the value of a smile given on the worst of days?

And, a word of encouragement when all seems lost?

Is it not the actions of our lives that determine the measure of our existence and not the months, days, hours and minute ?

Slow your holiday to a whisper see the cold wind on the face of a loved one that has returned from the weather to the warmth of your arms. Hear the sound of the snow crackle under your feet and the ice as it falls from the rooftop. See the blue bird that is in such beautiful contrast to the leafless gray trees.

Your heart-filled words of expression to me, and mine to you, should become the best of our memories. Therefore, be happy, content and wonderfully covered in the blissful senses of this holiday and all that God has blessed you and your family, both big and small.