...of Christmas Past

Copyright © 2000 Walt Zientek


The little black girl sat silently by the door's edge. Waiting. She knew that it
was Christmas morning, the one day she was allowed to enter the special
room.

She knew, after all these years, by watching the changes in the weather as
well as in the movements of the family. The bright lights, the cold crisp air,
the decorations, the tree, all telling a story that had repeated itself over and
over again for all these years.

She waited for the sounds of her family, stirring from sleep. She heard the
man arise and begin to move around. She heard the girls, first the younger
then the older. The girls she had known as children, now grown to be fine
young women, so tall and so strong. She could remember their delighted
squeals on Christmas mornings so long ago.

Then she heard the woman wake and begin to gather up the family. The
little dog's tail beat silently in anticipation as the people hurried down the
stairs.

She paused before she entered the room, letting her family take in the sight
of all the gifts.

Slowly she walked among them. She gently touched each one with her soft
muzzle. She placed her head on the Mother's lap and breathed in the scent
of the family. Of the holiday.

"Oh Mom," the older daughter said sadly, "I wish KayCee was here this
year."

"The woman felt her hands fall slowly to her empty lap. She smiled a slight,
sad smile and said, "She is here this year. She is and she always will be."

The little black dog wagged her tail some more.


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Last modified: 5-29-2001

Page Copyright © 2001 Walt Zientek <WZW@aol.com>