The Christmas Sweater

I’d been working on the Christmas tasks and it was half past four,
I thought I was doing pretty well, but my list showed there was more.
It’s Christmas Eve, the snow needs cleared and there’s one more gift to wrap,
Before we all head off to church, and the kids, they needed naps.
Then an untimely knock came at the door, so much still incomplete.
It was the greeter from our church, the old man across the street.
There was no doubt that it was Christmas Eve by the apparel that he wore,
I’d often wondered if he had ever owned at least one sweater more.
I’m sure it once was beautiful, but it’d been patched a time or two.
He asked if he could clear my snow, he’d nothing left to do.
“You see”, he said, “My sweet Emily was called to her eternal home;
I said goodbye just yesterday and feel somewhat alone.”
At that moment my list was done as I asked him to come in.
He answered, “Thanks, I do have time till the service does begin.”
As he sat down he told me of what he’d found in the box beneath their bed.
His sweater with a note inside and this is what it said…

To my kind, dear prince of 75 years,

If at Christmas, I’m with Jesus, as the doctors all have said,
I know you will have found this note, underneath our bed.
Each Christmas Eve I have watched you
Reach for this time-worn box,
It not only holds your sweater but memories heaped up on top.
When our money tin was empty and our marriage just brand new,
I knitted my love into this gift, something specially made for you~
My dear, my favorite Christmas gift was one that came each year,
As I watched around the corner, didn’t want that you may hear.
You bowed your head in silent prayer as you knelt beside our bed,
Then you’d reach beneath for the Christmas box, the same one when we first wed.
Before you donned your sweater, you whispered, “I love you, sweet Emily”.
Oh, my loving husband, that meant the world to me.
If you decide to retire it since I’m no longer here,
It served its purpose for both of us, for all these blessed years!
It is mended, patched, and threadbare and you’ve never failed to wear,
This Christmas gift of long ago. A symbol of the love we shared.

Until our eyes meet again in our Heavenly home,
Your Emily

“You see why I miss her very much? And she really never knew;
My silent prayer was of thanks for her and for her precious present too.”
This gentle man from across the street with emptiness so new
Looked up toward the heavens and whispered,
“Emily, sweet Emily, my favorite gift was you.”

I glanced at my little daughter, as a tear ran down my cheek,
She was drawing so intently, her face innocent and sweet.
I wrapped my arms around this dear old man hurting from his loss,
And my tiny angel walked up to him and offered up her picture…
A picture of a
Cross.

That said it all and now I see what Christmas time should be.
It’s slowing down to listen and taking time to care.
It’s about God’s Holy Gift to us and the love behind what we share.

In memory of Emily Boyce
Written by Lexanne Dellos 2014