Watch Their Faces

When Santa looks across the faces, and designs his speech and spiel,

He'll know that he's got the family to look toward, (with faces bright and real), to ply his best trade due,

for they are the ones, that Christmas means, the most of all the deal.

Momma's in charge. She'll set the stage, and pick who sits where and and will,

Be prepared to comb her child's hair, and think of how the picture will look; Babe in a diaper, or daughter in a sparkly dress, or son in overalls and a stocking cap, or all three to make a mess.

Watch her face, her eyes don't stop moving, she can see every inch, every smile, all the faces so happy to be. If needed she'll turn around, sit down, and make her presence be seen.

The child in fascinations trance, their eyes staring at white beard and red hat, the size of the man whose all a grin, enhancing it with this and that.

Everyone knows why Santa is there, and he keeps the row in tow,

And their picture is made, whether group or together, their laughter a part of it all.

Watch closely as they leave, Mom stuffing arms in coats, kids speaking a mile a minute, Santa smiling and waving as they go,

But watch extra quick, and look at

Dad as he turns, back with a shy smile on his face, and you realize, maybe just this one time, as he says "Thanks Santa" and gathers their coats and arms,

That he too had seen you, and felt the magic within, it made him feel like a child, it made him feel good, again.

Ralph E Peck

Photo by Ralph Peck

Snowman looking East, Waiting for Santa, at almost Chelsea, Oklahoma