- Lee Hamilton: November’s elections won’t resolve much of anything
- Pec Playhouse Theatre announces auditions for holiday production
- Keeping up with Aida: A western adventure, part three
- State prepares for thousands of medical marijuana applications
- Rockford’s Choices Natural Market celebrates Non-GMO Month
- Week 5 NFL picks: Lions to improve to 4-1, Packers and Bears will keep pace at 3-2
- Craft Beer Scene Around Rockford: Revolution Brewing’s Oktoberfest offers good all-around balance
- Rockford’s Fall ArtScene at 37 locations Oct. 3-4
- Tales from the Trough: Preseason interview with ‘The Voice of the IceHogs,’ Mike Peck
- Mr. Green Car: Saltwater-powered car: the Quant e-Sportlimousine
Literary Hook: A poem filled with Christmas memories
By Christine Swanberg
Author and Poet
For men and women “of a certain age,” Christmas comes packed with memories. Sometimes, the season is so “thick” that the urge to simplify takes over.
Here is a poem that celebrates simplifying Christmas. Sometimes, it takes a conscious intention to simplify Christmas, but the results can yield less stress and a refreshing approach to the holidays that leaves you times for joy and serenity.
You walk down the cold basement stairs,
“Tis the season to be jolly” on your mind.
When you open the cool closet doors,
familiar musty shelves of boxes,
crates of memories and junk sift together
like the butter cookies you no longer eat.
Scrawled on the crumbling cardboard:
Textbooks. Hawaii. Wedding. Will.
Christmas. Christmas. Christmas.
Dusty, plastic holly cascades from one.
A too-cute Santa winks from another
(his good eye stolen by the cat).
Forty years of grab bags, office parties:
so many well-intentioned little gifts.
So bless the crafto-maniacs who slide
into your life, who leave the tacky ornaments
you finally have the courage to throw away.
Yes, bless them. But not this year.
No. Today you’ll choose just one,
perhaps a small, crystal manger scene
close the chilly doors with a snap,
and scurry up the stairs. You might place it
nestled among four Advent candles
on the white lace of an old dining room table.
When you turn on white lights of the chandelier,
prisms sparkle. Stars on the ceiling!
“Silent Night” you might be humming,
lighting candles in the warm room,
or maybe another song will come to you:
“Tis a gift to be simple, a gift to be free.”
Christine Swanberg is a local author and poet.
From the Dec. 21-27, 2011, issue