it was december 23
i don’t remember the year
i was young
maybe second grade
it was almost dark
my dad had returned from the mountains with bags and bags of apples
he delivered them to the people who worked for him
a holiday gesture of love
yes love
he asked me to join him in his gift giving
as we drove the streets of my life
front porches were lit
wreaths on doors
through a window the flicker of reds
greens
and blues
twinkled in a muted haze of christmas
we went house to house
then we drove into what was then called colored town
by the railroad tracks was a white frame house with a big front porch
my dad said i will be right back
he rang the bell and a colored lady answered the door
she invited him inside
he turned to me and held up one finger
i sat in the big front seat and waited
watching for my dad to come back
a few minutes later they returned to the porch with a man I knew
it was richard the custodian at the schools
daddy was laughing and talking
he hugged the lady and walked down the steps
i heard him say merry christmas
he got back into the car
he was quiet for a minute
he started the car and said
they are fine people.
the finest
we drove home
dinner was ready and the house felt warm and safe
i really do not remember what gift i received from santa that year
i just remember that color is christmas lights and gifts with ribbons
and
people are the finest
