Shoes on The Window

Fair and still was the night, pine trees and rooftops
all covered by snow, firewood and roasted chestnuts
tickled your nose. And one little child would ask:

“Is Santa coming tonight?”

Fair and still was the night, miracles he expected
would come. His eyes filled with wonder, once again,
with candid persistence, the little one did ask:

“Is Santa coming tonight?”

But there wouldn’t be presents. Not that year, by far.
Work had been sparse, money so tight. The young one
gazed at his empty stocking – would it be filled tonight?

Mother cradled him tender; no presents, she knew,
but a gift, he would have. She rocked him to sleep
and a story she told, about a night of long, long ago.

“It was a night just like this one,” she said to her child,
“all covered by snow, the chimneys smoking, the houses
warm. And some said a king had been born to us all.

And the melody of an Angel’s voice came out of the night:
‘A child, a child,’ he sang, ‘a king has been given to us!’

But where? The Shepherds searched high and low.
They looked for the baby king, to honor his birth with
presents of food, and drink, and warm clothes.

Three kings from the Orient, Gaspar, Melchor, Balthazar,
had set out to find him, as well. Their presents were grand,
fit for a king. They brought precious jewels, silver, and gold.

Then over the sapphire sky, the north star did shine,
and once again, an Angel’s whisper caressed the night:
‘Follow the star,’ he said. ‘Follow the star.’

And its glow would guide them on that cold winter’s night.
They imagined him in a castle with royalty by his side.
Then the star paused in a little town called Bethlehem.

They knew somehow, this was the epiphany of their search.
But the child slept in a manger, with oxen and sheep
to keep him warm. The glow from the manger was such,

they bowed their heads in awe – this was the king, indeed,
they lay their presents of silver and gold, on the hey,
by the crib, but what they received instead, was indeed, a gift.

And the story goes,” said the mother to her sleepy child,
“that on the night of Epiphany, your shoes on the window,
you should place. The present, small, will only fill your shoe,

but the gift the from the King to you, is too big for
one heart to hold. And they say, little one, it’s a gift
to be passed on, because the child has called it love.”

Carmen Ruggero .2003