christmas
It was the week before Christmas, no space in the lot,
Spent driving around, just searching for a spot,
To park, to start shopping, to find those great things
For family and friends; something clever to bring.
The lines were crazy, they went right out the door.
The people were grumpy, they shoved all the more
The great things were gone, the shelves were all bare
No great gifts – unique gifts – to show that I care.
So, I returned to the car, started it up and turned round,
To see an old man behind me, a face with no frown.
I got out of the car to check on this man, all alone,
Lest he be hit by busy people, so focused on phones.
He said “Walk with me, let’s have a talk and let’s sit
I have things to share, important things, to tell just a bit
Of what this all looks like; it does not make me happy.
This rush and spend, fight for space, shove and be snappy.”
“Time is the present, not those things, oh so many.
You have enough stuff – more than enough – even plenty
What you don’t have is time; time is the great gift.
Time with each other is power – an emotional lift.
It’s what you all need – and for what you all yearn
Not things with bold wrappings, or things to return.
Time is the gift. Time with family and friends
Share time with each other, end the habit of “spend.”
What you all really want is to feel special – thought of.
After all, what you need is just to feel loved.”
I thanked the wise man and went back to my car.
Determined to make time the center, the focus, the star.
I looked back to thank him for wisdom so sound
But he had vanished, was gone, was nowhere to be found.
Back in my car, thinking about all I just heard
Feeling grateful and inspired by feelings so stirred.
Aware I was caught up in the big noise and distraction.
Now committed to a greater thought and a bolder new action.
Keep your stuff, keep your things, you don’t need anything more
Than to visit, or call or show up at their door.
Maybe bring food or something yummy to share
Spend time – it’s the present; celebrate with those you find there.
By Jay Forte
