The Precious Christmas Card and Other Festive Poetry

When the letterbox banged,

On that cold December day,

Jean shuffled with bent bones,

To collect bills she couldn’t pay.

Her green cardigan gaped,

Due to buttons long displaced.

Her shivering cold testimony,

To a world now in disgrace.

She picked up the envelope,

In faded, pale, worn hands.

Unknown words gazed back,

As she began to understand.

Weary pain now wringing,

Whilst she dropped onto her chair.

Threadbare arms and shoelace legs,

Another soul misplaced out there.

She slowly stroked the paper,

Blue eyes began to shine.

Shaky hands began to tear,

Already knowing what she'd find.

The card wasn’t really special,

Some children in the snow.

Laughing with their snowman,

Small cheeks red and all aglow.

Opening up the precious card,

Words greeted her inside.

‘To granddad, love from Timmy,’

She wasn’t sad, had no false pride.

Hugging the card, close to her chest,

Her eyes filled up with tears.

Although the card was not her own,

It was her first in fourteen years.

That little card in a child’s hand,

Brought her so much joy that day.

Happiness is always found,

In the love we freely give away.

Whilst she watched the clock hands click,

Her mind ticking back to past New Year’s.

The gentle face smiled at the thought,

Of past resolutions fueled by fears.

At twenty when she’d cut back meals,

Focused to lose her excess weight,

A distorted picture in her head,

Slimness her pass to a happy state.

At thirty she’d promised to change her job,

She needed much more respect you see.

To be the boss was that year’s goal.

Status and glory would set her free.

Five years on, new friends her aim,

Chosen to aid her social ascent.

Old acquaintances no longer held,

Their kindness just a forgotten scent.

Twelve months on and times had changed,

Long hours and falseness bleached her soul.

Numbness and vodka her only friends,

Abstinence became that year’s goal.

Fourteen years were then wiped away,

Thinking back, Annie took her blame.

A blackout of self hate and drink,

No resolutions, just a blanket of pain.

Then she’d found the will to live,

Her mind relived what she'd found.

On New Year’s Eve she’d saw a man,

Broken. Lying on frozen ground.

Bruises on face and lips of blue,

The power in his legs drained away.

She'd ran for help and saved his life,

He’d had a massive stroke that day.

The gratitude inside his eyes,

Brought Annie back to life that year.

Then she began to reach out and help,

Unlocking her cage of guilt and fear.

Now today as Annie thinks ahead,

Of all the love that she can give.

Her lesson tolls that helping others,

For a contented soul, is the only way to live.