- Freeport murder suspect Damon Dixson taken into custody in Rockford
- Local gas station employee arrested for selling liquor to minor
- Renewable Fuel Standard delay ‘a mixed blessing,’ Bustos says
- Rockford delegation presents inaugural ‘Rockford Award’ to Norwegian Air
- Education in Illinois making slow progress, according to report
- Illinois GOP Congressional delegation: Obama’s immigration plan undermines rule of law
- Suspect, 17, charged in Halloween hit-and-run in Roscoe
- Saint Anthony College of Nursing president to retire
- Man found guilty in deadly August 2013 crash at Mulford and Garrett Lane
- ‘The Price is Right Live!’ at Coronado March 1; tickets on sale Nov. 21
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