by Phillip Powell
As a child I lay in bed too excited to sleep.
I hardly dared breathe or make a single peep.
As each year if you listened well,
You could here him move about and sometimes hear his bell.
He assembled each toy and placed it on display
So you could spot yours quickly and begin to play.
A beautiful, big red apple was always toward the top
As I emptied out my Christmas sock.
I was very careful as I knew that I would find
A special lollipop not far behind.
Along with nuts and jelly rings
We were often surprised with a tangerine.
As children these items did not last.
But now remembered bring a special spirit as we recall our Christmas past.
And I know in my heart that these repeated items played a special part you see.
In the Christmases past for this man that filled my sock for me.
He sacrificed more than just his sleep that night
And he always made sure things were just right.
Early on Christmas morning we would race to see
What he had left us beneath the tree.
I knew before I got there the display that would be mine
And that is how it was intended and why he spent the time.
And I’m sure he had only just closed his eyes
As he walked out to share in our surprise.
He looked beyond torn paper, bows and ties
To see the sparkle in our eyes.
Santa always came on Christmas Eve
And it’s all that he did special that made us kids believe.
I pray each year that I can be
the kind of Santa you were for me.
I love you, Dad.