’Twas two months before Christmas and winter hit us with a smack
with snow and with winds, with ice and the rain that threw us off track.
One day it was warm, the next day it wasn’t. Power grids groaned with the load
and experts warned travellers to hurry and get off those treacherous roads.
As we looked out the window in wonder at what we did see
there arose a crash and bang, and down came part of the squirrel’s favourite tree.
With the door frozen shut and those winter gloves still not to be found,
we didn’t go out right away to survey how badly the branches had hit the ground.
Then the neighbour came calling, to help us find a path to the front and back,
bearing the news that my bright red Dodge Journey was injured in the attack.
“Oh no,” I cried, not my nearly-new SUV, but he stood there and gravely nodded
and that encouraged Housemate to pull on his boots and outside he plodded.
Back in the house he told me of the damage and Nephew said a new hood
and fender would be coming to me in my Christmas stocking, if I were good.
Now here we are after visits to appraisers and experts at the body shop
who showed compassion for my plight and offered repairs in only one stop.
So I can now say, ’Tis but a few days before Christmas and there in his spot
sits my bright red Dodge Journey, looking like it just came off the lot.
It has a new hood, and a bumper too, and cool, a matching coat of red paint
that is so bright that the brilliance might make Rudolph drop down in a faint.
The winter tires are on, the traction is noteworthy and despite many a slick path
it preens and proudly glides to a stop beside a black diesel that could use a bath.
So my Christmas will be merry as my insurance paid a large chunk of the bill,
leaving some money in the account to buy a gift or two and offer a tip at the till.
Now the debate begins: park in the driveway or take a chance on the street?
In an earlier fight with a tree, Housemate’s hybrid went down to total defeat.
So it could be concluded that nowhere is safe if Mother Nature is in a mood
And our eyes will watch to ensure Santa’s landing misses the Journey’s hood.
The presents are wrapped, the cards sent away and wishes have been spread
hoping for good cheer, much happiness and better days in the weeks ahead.
Merry Christmas to one and all, even the codgers plodding around the shops,
wondering how stuffing in a box would taste served with holiday pork chops.
Back in our yard, a man in a red suit, with a white beard and twinkling eye
waves his Christmas wishes and drives up over the Journey and swoops to the sky.
We’re sure he’s saying: “That’s it, that’s all. Thanks for reading. Now remember the reason for the season. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.”
Joyce Walter can be reached at ronjoy@sasktel.net
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
