A Christmas Story


my brother, my cousins and

i listened quietly to the

stories …

laughing along with

everyone especially the


about the crow and the cherry pits …

or intrigued by the


Grandmother and Grandfather told about

growing up on a farm …


i can’t remember any of the

gifts i received that

year …

but i clearly remember

the warm air

rushing out at my face the

first time

we opened the

big oven’s

door …


the darkening shades

of golden brown that appeared

every three hours as the

pig rotated ‘round and

‘round over the

blue flame …


the pig’s blanket in the

back of the

car …

Grandmother’s rich gravy

pooled on our

mashed potatoes …


while we laughed and


i looked over at the


resting in the

middle of the table,

our little


gathered around it …


strangely enough, it seemed as if that


had a smile on its

face …


 the whole day seems to have

revolved around that

beautiful golden

pig …


especially when we were all

gathered around that long

dinner table sharing its

meat  while reliving


memories …


 how strangely beautiful it


now that


golden brown

roasted pig had

given me one of the

best Christmas


i had ever

received …

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