A Lifetime of Christmas Poetry
My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, age 85, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet and teacher, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry.
Mom had a tradition of writing a new Christmas poem each year and sending it to friends and relatives. The mailing list grew each year, and people always told us they looked forward to mom’s Christmas poems. She published some in a couple little books. There are too many to post just once a day during the month of December, but I’ll choose some of the best.
As a Little Child
by Raynette Eitel
A little child with Christmas eyes,
Peppermint lips, and sticky hands
Stood paper-doll still,
Everything within her body straining
To hear the sounds of hoofbeats on the roof
And a mighty “Ho-Ho-Ho” echoing across the night.
Only the ancient certainty of childhood
Could account for those dancing feet stilled
Or expectant eyes looking everywhere
For signs of his coming.
I, long-since deafened and blinded by years,
Watch warily as Wonder and Awe and Love
Are born again in this child.
My breathing stops,
My own ears strain to catch a sound.
And oh, the wonder of knowing once again
The deafening whisper of angel wings and
The healing glimpse of one bright star.
Writing Rhetorically 