by Laura Spatz

Three Stages

Twelve years ago, a baby whistled at the tree,
A kindergarten girl looked for Santa,
A double-digit son squirmed in his disbelief.

Today the baby bounces a basketball,
The girl whirls through classes and parties,
The son again endures a transition stage.

But Christmas continues to shine,
Little angels sing as lovely as ever,
Christ still comes.

Laura M. Spatz