05-27-2025, 04:07 PM
They're supposed to feel happy at Christmas.
You're supposed to be merry, they say.
You're supposed to feel loved and loving
But he certainly didn't feel that way.
Last night he fought with his brother.
And he forgot and kicked the wall.
He got yelled at by his mother
For walking by the light in the hall.
His father had spoken quite sternly
about showing off for the guests.
His sister had said he was selfish.
His brother had called him a pest.
He wanted to see Bugs Bunny
But his father was watching the news.
He didn't see how they could stand it.
It always gave him the blues.
People were starving in Asia.
There were children in the slums with no toys.
So he went out to see what was happening
And he got into a fight with the boys.
He bought a new pack of football cards
And sorted them in a box.
But his mother said, "Do something useful
Like picking up the pants and socks."
He thought, "Now tomorrow is Christmas.
I'm supposed to be happy, they say.
I'm supposed to feel loved and loved
But I certainly don't feel that way."
What do you do to feel happy?
He could be happy, he knew it
If he could think of what he'd forgotten
And just get busy and do it.
He had to learn to be perfect
And make everyone happy with him.
He really wanted to do it
But he knew his chances were slim.
He would experiment with cabbage and tulips
And discover a protein-rich plant
To feed all those people in Asia
And then he would grant to the slums
Three-quarters of all his profits
To stop all the crime and noise
And clean up the garbage in the alleys
And to buy all those slum kids a few things.
Then he would be happy for sure.
So he finds Christmas cheer.
But his sister said, "Boy, you're a dummy.
You can't leave that cabbage here."
It was her fault he couldn't find Christmas.
That was as clear as it could be.
They probably wouldn't even buy it
The bicycle he had seen on TV.
"Well, I never find Christmas here."
He thought as he walked out the door.
And he stepped on a piece of his Star Wars set
That he had left on the floor.
He said he was looking for Christmas.
His father called it a whim.
His brother said, "I knew it.
There's something about him."
He walked down the street to a Walmart.
He looked at the toys and clothes.
He thought, "Now I could really find Christmas
If only I had some of these."
Suddenly he knew he was hungry.
He knew then where Christmas was.
It had to be over at Grandma's
With all the stuff she does.
He remembered when he was just little
Going to a big Christmas dinner.
He felt like he couldn't be happier.
Finally he had a winner.
He opened the door, all expectant.
But she said, "What are you doing here?"
I'm just so terribly busy.
See you tomorrow, n.
She gave him some cookies
As she rushed him out the door.
His feelings were hurt. He decided
Not to go there anymore.
He looked at the cookies she gave him.
He almost threw them away.
He didn't feel so lazy
But it was certainly a little.
There wasn't really Christmas.
It was probably just a day
And that nonsense about being happy
Was probably a lie anyway.
When he was little, he just thought he was happy.
That's how you can fool little kids.
There was no place he could find Christmas.
He didn't care what people said.
Then a lady said, "Can you help me?"
I would really appreciate it if you would."
As he helped her, she kept saying, "Thank you."
It made him feel good somehow.
He saw this man who was shopping
With sixteen packages, maybe more.
Even thought the guy didn't ask him
He went and held the door.
He said, "Hey, Merry Christmas!"
For a kid he didn't even know.
And his house, where he felt so picked up,
Was the place he just had to go.
He decided he needed his family
He wanted to be close to his mother.
And even though it surprised him to feel it
He realized he loved his brother.
In a way, he felt kind of funny
And although nothing was said
There was a kind of feeling of Christmas
When the family went to bed.
He kissed his mother and he hugged her.
He was even nice to his brother.
He gave his sister a cookie
And gave his brother the other one.
He put his socks in the basket
He turned off the light in the hall.
And he put himself straight to bed
And he didn't even kick the wall.
In a way, he was a little different
But mostly he was the same.
He still liked to annoy and he would soon forget
To put away a game.
But he liked what he felt.
He knew the other felt it too.
He hoped they would feel it tomorrow.
Then he suddenly knew what to do.
He still couldn't solve all the problems.
He would probably still be fighting with the boys.
They would still be hungry in Asia.
And there were still children without toys.
He still felt bad when he was wrong.
He would still show up every now and then.
He still had to learn all those lessons
That help little boys become men.
But he could show that he cared about people.
He could start with him mother and his father.
Knowing that they loved him was better
Than having any old present.
He didn't have to look for Christmas.
He wondered now why he thought he should do that.
He didn't have to make everyone happy.
He didn't have to be good all the time.
People just had to care about each other.
He knew that wasn't a whim
And he knew that the place to find Christmas
Was right inside him.