A little boy, just eight years old, was playing with his food,
His Captain Crunch was getting soggy, wilted by his mood;
He stirred and shuffled bits around, just staring into space,
A little tear began to fall quite slowly down his face.
His mom was busy doing dishes not too far away,
She heard the silence as it grew, and paused to glance his way;
Normally a chatty boy, his silence filled the air,
His sullen mood was out of place, his little heart despaired.
She saw him slowly stirring, as a tiny teardrop fell,
His little lip began to quiver, saddened there, he dwelled;
A million thoughts ran through her mind in such a brilliant flash,
I must have been too hard on him, last night before his bath.
I know I lost my temper, but he has to understand,
I cannot buy the kinds of toys that other people have;
Why can't I make the kind of money that could bring him joy?
I simply can't afford to buy him all those fancy toys.
Her mind was spinning 'bout the things she thought had made him sad,
'Twas just her and this little boy, her sweet and charming lad;
She tried to do the best by him as any mother would,
She worked two jobs to make ends meet, she tried the best she could.
She hoped that he would understand the sacrifices made,
And tried to make up for these things with loving caring ways;
And here with Christmas coming, she'd exhausted all her funds,
She'd saved and scrimped in hopes to buy him something that he'd love.
She heard a sigh, a quiet sob, to break her reverie,
And walked toward her little son, embraced him tenderly;
"Oh honey, what's the matter? I'm so sorry for last night,"
"You know I wish I could do more ... but money's just so tight."
The little boy looked through his tears, eyelashes long and wet,
And looked into his mothers eyes, perplexed by what she'd said;
"It's not that mom, I understand ... that's not why I'm so sad."
"I know you have to work so hard for everything we have."
She looked at him, and wondered at these words beyond his years,
And smiled a gentle mother's smile, relieved of all her fears;
"Then what's the matter honey? Tell me why you seem so glum."
She brushed the hair from back his face, awaiting words to come.
He mustered up a heavy sigh, another teardrop fell,
"It's just that at our school today, we have a Show and Tell."
"The teacher said we have to bring a little something in,"
"And all the kids are talking 'bout the things they're gonna bring."
"Kenny's taking Snoopy, and Rebecca's got her doll,"
"Johnny's bringing X-Men," he recanted and recalled;
"Becky's got her Barbie's, then there's Mark, a baseball glove,"
"Everyone is taking something favorite that they love."
"Then why so sad?" she asked him, "There must be something you can bring,"
"Something that you cherish too ... let's try to think of things!"
"Just tell me what you love the most, what makes you happy too?"
"What brings a smile upon your face when you are feeling blue?"
"What warms your heart each time you play? There must be many things!"
"We'll pick one out and go to school, the choice is yours to bring."
And so he pondered all she said, it didn't take him long,
And when he went to school that day ... his favorite tagged along.
And there he sat and listened, as his friends all showed their toys,
A huge assortment, they did bring, these little girls and boys;
He waited patiently his turn, until they called his name,
And stood up proudly, took his place, in front of all ... proclaimed ...
"I brought my favorite thing ..." he said, his voice sincere and calm,
And pointed to a lady at the back ... "Come up here, mom!"