Why are my childhood thoughts of Christmas eve,
So full of happiness and free of care?
Perhaps it was the myths which I believed,
Of sleigh and reindeer flying through the air,
Perhaps anticipation through the night,
Of gifts that made their way beneath the tree,
By steady glow of softly blinking lights,
And snow swept scenes appearing magically.
Yet, as I grow, I think such memories,
Must issue from a youthful innocence.
As I have lived my daily destiny,
I know more of this world and trust it less.
And so on Christmas, I think i must try,
To put aside my disenchanted woes.
To see this earth as through a child's eyes,
May be the greatest of all gifts bestowed.
