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.
When Christmas Comes
by Raynette Eitel, 1977. Mom wrote this after our dad died, when my sisters and I were 18, 15, and 7.
When Christmas comes
I shall not weep
For all the times which went before.
I’ll trim the tree
And write my notes
And hang the wreath upon the door.
When Christmas comes
I shan’t look back
To shadows of another year.
I’ll bake the cookies,
Wrap each gift
And hold the children very near.
When Christmas comes
There shall be joy
To fill each aching heart at last.
The carol sung,
The stockings hung,
I’ll toast the ghost of Christmas past.
Writing Rhetorically 