A Nod to Holiday Cheer

December 2, 2022 at 5:01 p.m.

...by Pat D'Amico

My mother loved everything about Christmas. Our tree always touched the ceiling, and she hung thousands of strands of shiny tinsel, one by one. It had hundreds of lights and treasured ornaments.

In later years, the size of the tree diminished but never the splendor. Every nook and cranny of our house was decorated and the aroma of goodies baking in the oven was always in the air. Our 78-speed record player often regaled us with “I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas,” by Yogi Yorgesson.

My mother was a kind and gracious lady who illuminated the season with her love and her joy, but…


My mother was sweet, I learned poise at her feet.
Her disposition was level.
No matter how bad, she never got mad--
Her mien would confound the devil—
Until what did I see but a Christmas Tree
That wouldn’t stand on its own.
It was bangled and baubled as it wiggled and wobbled—
The star on the top brightly shown.
She was very nice, she straightened it twice--
She straightened it twenty times more.
Then before I knew it, she hauled off and threw it
Directly out the back door.
As the tree hit the lawn, the trimmings rolled on
Even the crash didn’t dim it.
I learned that day in a graphic way
That even a saint has a limit.

Kirkland resident and resident light-verse master, Pat D’Amico contributed a couple more holiday verses to round out the good cheer…


A cookie was baked by a lady I know.
Her frosting décor was a tribute to dough.
One little known fact has caught my attention
That no one before has bothered to mention:
We all know that Santa wears very big boots
And reindeer must yield to their animal roots
So it stands to reason the deer would sprinkle
Santa’s home turf with their poop and their tinkle.
So this cookie depicts (for an eye that’s acute)
A tiny brown spot on the heel of his boot.


They stepped on my toes in the shopping mall.
My bumper got crunched in the lot.
By the time I got up to the counter,
I nearly forgot what I bought.
But the season’s resplendent with love and cheer
(Not to mention the lights and the holly)
And, at my age, I’m thankful that I am still here
So by golly, I will be jolly. 

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