A Christmas Story
Sharon Bryant
When I was just a little girl
Around the age of three
I remember a Christmas
When Santa came to see me
A doll wrapped up
In a pretty bright red bow
Long golden hair to stroke
Oh my, how my heart glowed
And then came a Christmas
Later on in time
When I shared my first Christmas
With a son that was all mine
A few years later down the road
When he was only five
I didn't know it would be
The last Christmas in my life
Now on Christmas
As many in all these years
I spend my days at a grave
Shedding many tears
The Holidays come every year
That, I cannot change
But through all my memories
My memories I can rearrange
I can remember all the good years
That he and I had shared
I can still here the giggles
When he got that talking teddy bear
I can remember the hugs and squeals of "OH MOM"
As each gift he opened on that day
I can sit back and smile remembering
Before the angels took him away
Now I am older than I once used to be
But my mind drifts back
To what once was on Christmas
When my son was on earth with me
I tuck my head to fight the snow
As I wade through the fenced in graves
I've got my gift to give to him
On this years’ Christmas Day
In Memory of Andrew Frank Dunbar 1-22-72 - 10-24-77
Reprinted by permission of author
Sharon Bryant
When I was just a little girl
Around the age of three
I remember a Christmas
When Santa came to see me
A doll wrapped up
In a pretty bright red bow
Long golden hair to stroke
Oh my, how my heart glowed
And then came a Christmas
Later on in time
When I shared my first Christmas
With a son that was all mine
A few years later down the road
When he was only five
I didn't know it would be
The last Christmas in my life
Now on Christmas
As many in all these years
I spend my days at a grave
Shedding many tears
The Holidays come every year
That, I cannot change
But through all my memories
My memories I can rearrange
I can remember all the good years
That he and I had shared
I can still here the giggles
When he got that talking teddy bear
I can remember the hugs and squeals of "OH MOM"
As each gift he opened on that day
I can sit back and smile remembering
Before the angels took him away
Now I am older than I once used to be
But my mind drifts back
To what once was on Christmas
When my son was on earth with me
I tuck my head to fight the snow
As I wade through the fenced in graves
I've got my gift to give to him
On this years’ Christmas Day
In Memory of Andrew Frank Dunbar 1-22-72 - 10-24-77
Reprinted by permission of author
