She woke up late, Christmas Eve Day,
heard the fire truck's siren screaming,
strident yet blunted, echoing over the town site.
She smiled, yawned and stretched,
made coffee, it was 9:00 am,
plenty of time before the visit.

She had lived there eleven years,
her oldest daughter had not yet turned two.
It came as a surprise to her, this ritual;
unique, special…giving. Now,
it was just as powerful a symbol
of humanity’s love for humanity.

Her eight and twelve years olds
were bathed and brushed and shiny,
glowing, as Santa came down the street,
the fire engine’s siren blaring for them.
Santa stops, firemen pass out smiles
and candy canes, pictures are taken,
shy eyes beam…

Every year, these men give up
their Christmas Eve Day,
when they could be with their families,
instead, in this remote mining town,
with not much for children to do,
going up and down all the streets,
the firemen show the whole town
the true spirit of giving.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 12/24/03