It's not Christmas yet, but I'd like to share with you this favorite of mine. I found this poem in a magazine long time ago (I think I was about 13 - so forgive me if I haven't noted the author of this wonderful christmas love story don in prose).
WINTER BLIZZARD (2)
“The best Christmas ever?
I remember it well!”
So began the old story
My mother would tell
The familiar old story
We kids love to hear,
Christmas Eve by the fire,
At the end of the year.
“I was eighteen,”
She would smile and say,
“But how well I remember
That one Christmas Day.
On the morning before,
A great storm started blowing,
The air became damp,
And soon, it was snowing.
And then, how it fell,
Flakes just poured from the sky,
Till the drifts piled up
Half a dozen feet high,
The roads became blocked,
Our small airport shut down,
And soon, not a soul
Could escape from the town.
“I remember my father
Reached home around four,
And I saw someone with him
When I opened the door.
A snow-covered stranger,
A guest, I was told,
A young out-of-town lawyer,
Tall! Handsome! – And cold!
A young man from the city,
I heard my father say,
Christmas Eve – he was stranded –
So with us he would stay,
And we’d make his Yule merry.
Or at least we would try,
Till the airport reopened,
And the storm had gone by.
“And then, there began
The best Christmas ever.
Our guest was a dream,
For besides being clever,
And besides being handsome,
He was gentle and shy –
So – I soon fell in love!”
Mother said with a sigh.
“Christmas Eve – Christmas Day –
We spent hours together,
But then I could see
A change in the weather.
The storm had gone past,
It no longer was snowing,
And the following day,
I knew he’d be going.
He’d be off to the city,
He’d be leaving – and then –
I feared that I never
Would see him again.
“Ah, if only, I thought
There was some magic way,
To prevent him from leaving,
To cause a delay.
I was sure that I pleased him,
That was easy to see,
Why, another few days,
And he might fall for me!
Well, I thought and I thought,
But what could I do?
And then, after supper –
Yes, it’s perfectly true –
He said he felt odd,
He confessed he was ill,
One moment so hot,
The next moment, a chill.
Yes, it’s hard to believe,
But it was perfectly true,
That evening our guest
Came down with the flu!
“For a week he stayed with us,
Now better, now worse,
He was so sweet and helpless –
And I was his nurse.
I brought him cold cloths
To put on his head,
I brought him warm soup,
And fluffed up his bed.
Oh, I cared for my patient,
Through each fever attack,
And when he left a week later,
I prayed he’d come back.
Mother paused for a while,
And said nothing more.
She looked at us children.
Sprawled about on the floor.
She gazed at the tree.
All tinseled and bright,
At the wreaths and the fire,
And the holiday night.
Then she said, “Every Christmas
Is special, I know,
But for me, that December
Had a magical glow,
First the hours before Christmas,
And then Christmas day,
The great blizzard that brought us
Together that way,
All the wind and the snow,
And the terrible weather,
Then the last minute flu
That kept us together.”
And she’d look at my father,
And say with a smile,
“I’m so glad you were forced
To remain for a while,
The out-of-town stranger,
So handsome and clever,
The sweetheart I found,
On the best Christmas ever.”