Christmas Eve: A True Story - Honest!

Christmas Eve is always hectic at my house. There are invariably a hundred and one last last minute things to accomplish. It's bad enough now, but it was much worse when the children were young.

I published this poem several years ago, but it seems like a good time to repeat it tonight. This event described here took place in about 1982. It is absolutely true - every single word of it. I hope you enjoy reading about our totally unexpected Christmas Eve event.


A Christmas Eve Story

Christmas Eve - in the morning, I was bustling to and fro,
Stitching this, baking that, making piles of presents grow.
A needle jabbed into my thumb, clock hands were swiftly turning.
While searching for my Christmas list I smelled the cookies burning.

My kids were blasting music (not the kind that I would choose),
Their father yelled for quiet, then turned up the TV news
My head was really throbbing, but I could not slow my pace.
To leave something unfinished would have been a huge disgrace!

The telephone began to ring, my daughter raced her brother,
Not noticing that in their haste they'd nearly killed their mother.
I chased out of the kitchen to answer knocking at the door,
And I tripped upon the carpet and fell sprawling on the floor.

The florist smiled, "Good morning! Please just sign your name right here.
A poinsettia from the neighbors to bring you Christmas cheer."
I sat down on the lowest step, the flowers on my lap,
I couldn't deal with any more until I'd had a nap.

I retreated to my bedroom and stretched out on my bed.
Quiet peace flowed over me ... then my eyes flew wide with dread!
From the bathroom in the hallway, the children's, not my own,
Came a sound I'd heard before, one I wish I'd never known.

I tiptoed very slowly, till before the stool I stood,
Wishing it would go away. Praying that it would.
One gurgle. Then another. My body swayed with fright,
What I imagined underneath the lid, was a plumber's true delight.

My first thought was to flush it. Maybe it would come unplugged.
Then I visioned murky waters overflowing on my rug.
So I raised the lid so slowly, peeked to see what I had heard,
And there, splashing in the toilet, was a wet a frightened bird!

This was not what I'd expected, and I slammed the lid back down,
As I screamed so very loudly that my voice was heard downtown!
Well my husband, he came running, and the children followed suit.
"There's a bird in the toilet!" They just stood, three statues, mute.

I repeated in a softer voice, and I motioned with my hand,
But they looked upon me blankly like they didn't understand.
"There's a bird in the toilet! Do you think that I am blind?"
I heard my husband whisper, "Son, your mother's lost her mind.

"Dear, it's been a trying day," soothed my husband with a frown.
I just shouted, "Go do something - or that bird will surely drown!"
So they looked, just to humor me, and guess what they found there -
Yes, a bird, flopping desperately! Not a moment left to spare!

My son retrieved the dripping thing and wrapped it in a towel.
He placed it in a spot of sun to dry the soggy fowl.
Did it fall down the chimney? No, we had closed the flue.
Then how did it get there? I really wish we knew.

Did it swim up the sewer? That seems quite absurd,
But stranger things have happened close to Christmas. So I've heard.
After awhile we took it out, and watched it fly away.
And I thought, how very fitting as an ending to this day.

Merry Christmas, everyone!!