Tamales for Christmas

When Christmas comes 'round
some children might
get to build snowmen
if the weather is right.

They eat turkey drumsticks
with cranberry sauce,
and all hope and pray
Santa doesn't get lost!

But Daniel looked out
at a blue desert sky,
where the sun made it feel
like the Fourth of July.

But Christmas is Christmas,
hot weather or cool,
and the last place
he wanted to be was in school!

There were footballs to kick,
and baseballs to bat,
and all sorts of great stuff
to do just like that.

There'd be parties, and carols,
and presents to give,
'cause Christmas is Christmas
wherever you live.

So Daniel j-u-s-t sat there.
He tried to be good.
He tried to sit still
as he knew that he should.

And just when he thought
he could stand it no more...

R-r-r-i-i-i-n-n-n-g-g-g!

Kids, books, and teachers
flew out of the door!

Some climbed out of windows.
Others ran down the hall.
One girl tore her dress
climbing over a wall.

As fast as he could,
Daniel ran down the street
toward home—and the kitchen
for a quick Christmas treat.

In his kitchen would be
Mama's holiday goodies—
homemade peanut brittle,
and hot gingerbread cookies...

Hot chocolate, and sweet,
crunchy peppermint balls,
but tamales were what Daniel
liked best of all!

Mounds of tamales!
Dozens and dozens,
made by his Mama,
his aunts, and his cousins.

Their spicy aroma
seemed to reach up to heaven.
He just couldn't wait
to gobble down six or seven.

"Not 'till tomorrow.
Just wait if you're able.
They still have to be steamed,"
Mama called from the table.

They'd give some to the mailman,
some to friends, then they'd leave
the rest for the family
to eat Christmas Eve.

And Christmas Eve was next day!
That night, thoughts filled Daniel’s head
of toys...and tamales
as he lay in his bed.

On Christmas vacation,
there was so much to do.
It seemed like forever
before nighttime was through!

There were presents to buy,
and puppies to tame,
and a swimming hole
that was just calling his name.

He planned every moment.
He just couldn't sleep…
besides, he'd made a promise
that he just had to keep.

You see, each Christmas Eve,
people gathered around
the Manger with gifts
for the poor in the town.

Like the wise men, who came
bringing spices and gold,
they brought gifts
so no one would go hungry or cold.

Cans of food and warm clothing
'round the Manger were piled—
offerings
laid at the feet of the Child.

This year, Daniel wanted to buy
a gift of his own
with money he'd saved
from his allowance at home.

In fact, he'd made a promise,
and would find a way, too…
'though it was Christmas vacation
with so much to do.

After breakfast, he sped
down the road on his bike.
On the way he was met
by his best buddy, Mike.

They rode out to the river
and fished in the shade,
then hurried to town
for the Christmas parade.

They climbed the bell tower
to get the best view
of the bands, clowns and horses...
and Santa Claus, too.

After lunch, they raced back
to the old river bend,
where the blue water sparkled
like thousands of gems.

They hit the water full tilt,
two, brown gingerbread otters,
who left scattered clothes
thirty yards from the water.

They felt sorry for kids
who lived where it was cool,
who could not take a dip
in a midwinter pool.

Skating was slippery.
Ice and snow made them shiver,
and nothing couldn't beat
a good swim in the river!

The boys swam, and they dove
until late afternoon.
The sun started to set.
It would be Christmas Eve soon.

Daniel's promise! Oh no!
Christmas Eve wouldn't wait.
The stores were all closing!
Now, it was too late.

He was sad, very sad.
Daniel wept at his folly…
even too upset
to any tamales.

"Cheer up," said his Mama,
"Don't be so upset.
God knows that
you didn't mean to forget."

Just then, an idea
popped into his head.
"May I be excused
from the table?" he said.

"Your tamales..." she said,
"Are you finished so soon?"
"I'll take 'em with me," he said.
Then he ran to his room.

Mama called, "Get cleaned up, then,
and take a quick shower.
We're leaving for church
in just half an hour!"

But the time was soon past.
Still the minutes went round,
and Daniel, as usual,
was nowhere to be found.

Mama peeked in his room.
She could tell by the wind
that the window was open.
He’d run off somewhere—again.

"That boy drives me crazy!"
She sighed and said, "But…
one day he'll be older."
Then she closed the glass shut.

Oh, she knew he'd be back.
She just didn't know when,
and they had to leave now.
Mass was soon to begin.

The stockings were hung,
and the Christmas tree lit.
Luminaria on the walk outside
twinkled a bit.

It was now Christmas Eve
like so many before,
when suddenly,
there was a knock at the door!

There Daniel stood,
out of breath and all dusted.
"Who shut the window?" he asked,
and tromped in, disgusted.

His poor mom threw up her hands,
as if to scream to the stars,
but she could manage was,
"Just…get in the car."

They all drove to the mission
down the gaily lit street,
while the radio played carols
softly and sweet...

Sweet as ever they'd heard.
That, no one could doubt.
Normally, Daniel's chatter
would drown the thing out.

But he sat very still,
very quiet and calm.
Could he guess all the grief
that he'd caused his poor mom?

The mission just glowed
on that Christmas Eve night.
The old bell was ringing.
The windows shone bright.

Flickering candles
warmed each red, votive glass.
The choir sang low
while folks gathered for Mass.

Greens were hangining, it seemed
from the ceiling to floor.
The air smelled of pine,
and yet something more...

Down by the alter,
at the Nativity scene
laid a crudely wrapped package
that was tied up with a string.

And from that package rose
a most wonderful spice:
chile ancho, comino
and masa, so nice...

Daniel’s tamales!
He grinned ear-to-ear,
Baby Jesus would have
his tamales this year!

That spicy aroma
filled the chapel like leaven,
a sweet, fragrant offering
drifting upwards to heaven.

The padre never knew why
they were left, or at least,
who had come offering
this delectable feast.

A bit odd to be sure,
but it was Daniel's to give,
'cause Christmas is Christmas
wherever you live.