Sheila Charles THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT
My friend, in England, has a little boy.
He’s shortly going to be four.
He’s amazingly articulate,
We communicate by Skype, therefore.
He calls me Auntie Sheila.
His name is James William Paul.
He speaks the queen’s English –
Nothing like MY accent at all.
Parcels are expensive to send.
Now, I know he really loves books
And I have a room full. (I used to teach.)
He prefers books to playing with trucks!
It was getting near to Christmas.
I’d to get his present in the post.
I always get things there on time.
It is something of which I can boast.
So I searched through my book cases to find a book which he would enjoy.
I found one – brand new – the price still on. The pictures would just suit a boy.
It had spaces to print upper case letters in. (He was very advanced for his age.)
I flicked through it before wrapping it up. Oh no. There on the T PAGE
Was a capital T, in pencil. The child had pressed down hard
So although I tried to race it, no luck. The gift was marred.
Even I felt it was something I could not easily disregard!
Then, on further examination, there was also a crayoned in J.
Thank goodness I noticed it before posting it away.
I had to look for another book.
I found one – not as good.
(I just MIGHT have sent it
Had it been my own flesh and blood.)
I could imagine James calling out,
“Mummy, look what I’ve found,
Somebody’s written in my Christmas present.”
Now, I ask you, how would that sound?
In fact, he probably would have added
Something else far more profound!
illustration by ume- nori
