Dear Murray,
Thank you for sharing your cup of Christmas tea. May you,
and the rest of our CyberFamily,be granted your heart's
desire this holiday season.
Love, Carole
PWP 54/51/?40
--- Murray Charters <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> This message is for all of you....
>
> I'd like you to set aside your own problems; your
> differences; and think
> of those past Christmas's and the memories of those dear
> to us all...
>
> I'd like you to join me as we journey to my great aunt's
> for....
> a cup of Christmas tea....
>
> In honor of childhood memories and the wonderful people
> that made
> them possible- Especially Mom, please share with me....
>
> A Cup of Christmas Tea
> by Tom Hegg
>
> The log was in the fireplace, all spiced and set to burn.
> At last the yearly Christmas race was in the clubhouse
> turn.
> The cards were in the mail, all the gifts beneath the
> tree.
> And 30 days reprieve till VISA could catch up with me.
>
> Though smug satisfaction seemed the order of the day,
> Something still was nagging me and would not go away.
> A week before, I got a letter from my old great Aunt.
> It read: Of course I'll understand completely if you
> can't,
> But if you find you have some time how wonderful if we
> Could have a little chat and share a cup of Christmas
> tea.
>
> She'd had a mild stroke that year which crippled her left
> side.
> Though house bound now, my folks had said it hadn't hurt
> her pride.
> They said: She'd love to see you. What a nice thing it
> would be
> For you to go and maybe have a cup of Christmas tea.
> But boy! I didn't want to go. Oh, what a bitter pill,
> To see an old relation and how far she'd gone downhill.
> I remembered her as vigorous, as funny and as bright.
> I remembered Christmas Eves when she regaled us half the
> night.
>
> I didn't want to risk all that. I didn't want the pain.
> I didn't need to be depressed. I didn't need the strain.
> And what about my brother? Why not him? She's his aunt,
> too!
> I thought I had it justified, but then before I knew,
> The reasons not to go I so painstakingly had built
> Were cracking wide and crumbling in an acid rain of
> guilt.
> I put on boots and gloves and cap, shame stinging every
> pore.
> And armed with squeegee, sand and map, I went out my
> front door.
>
> I drove in from the suburbs to the older part of town.
> The pastels of the newer homes gave way to gray and
> brown.
> I had that disembodied feeling as the car pulled up
> And stopped beside the wooden house that held the
> Christmas cup.
>
>
> How I got up to her door I really couldn't tell...
> I watched my hand rise up and press the button of the
> bell.
> I waited, aided by my nervous rocking to and fro.
> And just as I was thinking I should turn around and go,
> I heard the rattle of the china in the hutch against the
> wall.
> The triple beat of two feet and a crutch came down the
> hall.
> The clicking of the door latch and the sliding of the
> bolt,
> And a little swollen struggle popped it open with a jolt.
>
> She stood there pale and tiny, looking fragile as an egg.
> I forced myself from staring at the brace that held her
> leg.
> And though her thick bifocals seemed to crack and spread
> her eyes,
> Their milky and refracted depths lit up with young
> surprise.
> Come in! Come in! She laughed the words. She took me by
> the hand.
> And all my fears dissolved away as if by her command.
>
> We went inside and then before I knew how to react
> Before my eyes and ears and nose was Christmas past,
> alive, intact!
> The scent of candied oranges, of cinnamon and pine,
> The antique wooden soldiers in their military line,
> The porcelain Nativity I'd always loved so much,
> The Dresden and the crystal I'd been told I mustn't
> touch.
>
> My spirit fairly bolted like a child out of class
> And danced among the ornaments of calico and glass.
> Like magic I was six again, deep in a Christmas spell.
> Steeped in the million memories the boy inside knew well.
> And here among old Christmas cards so lovingly displayed,
> A special place of honor for the ones we kids had made.
>
> And there, beside her rocking chair, the center of it
> all,
> My great Aunt stood and said how nice it was that I had
> come to call.
> I sat and rattled on about the weather and the flu.
> She listened very patiently then smiled and said, "What's
> new?"
> Thoughts and words began to flow. I started making sense.
> I lost the phony breeziness I use when I get tense.
>
> She was still passionately interested in everything I
> did.
> She was positive. Encouraging. Like when I was a kid.
> Simple generalities still sent her into fits.
> She demanded the specifics. The particulars. The bits.
> We talked about the limitations that she'd had to face.
> She spoke with utter candor and with humor and good
> grace.
> Then defying the reality of crutch and straightened knee,
> On wings of hospitality she flew to brew the tea.
>
> I sat alone with feelings that I hadn't felt in years.
> I looked around at Christmas through a thick hot blur of
> tears.
> And the candles and the holly she'd arranged on every
> shelf,
> The impossibly good cookies she still somehow baked
> herself.
> But these rich and tactile memories became quite pale and
> thin,
> When measured by the Christmas my great Aunt kept deep
> within.
> Her body halved and nearly spent, but my great Aunt was
> whole.
> I saw a Christmas miracle, the triumph of a soul.
> The triple beat of two feet and a crutch came down the
> hall,
> The rattle of the china in the hutch against the wall.
> She poured two cups. She smiled and then she handed one
> to me.
> And then we settled back and had a cup of Christmas tea.
>
> *************************
>
> (my own great aunt passed away when I was a child - she
> was
> institutionalized with Parkinson's before I was born and
> tho'
> I never met her it seems she lives in this naration,
> along with my other
> aunts. my mom, my grannie... this piece never fails to
> touch my heart
> and I wanted to share it with you all ...... murray)
>
> Source:
> http://home.att.net/~aljohnson07/christmastea.htm
>
> **********
>
>
> [log in to unmask]
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