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Xmas
Fifty Years Ago
For Tinka (2005) To his table we came from near
& far
from the city to the countryside
to be
family in his house near
Jerusalem. This
was the land that possessed me
before
I knew what it was to be
unpossessed. I
was only seven then, believing in
all
the wonders of the mystery of
holidays
There is no cheer—unwrapped
presents
candied yams, collard greens, ham
topped
with pineapple slices, oranges,
no nuts
—like the gift of innocence.
There was no
tv then, just us. It was he that
made Xmas
—and Mama, and their five
daughters and
their children; Uncle Richard and
Aunt Sal
friends and cousins—all waiting
for Xmas
dinner, begun by Daddy’s long
unending
prayer blessing this feast &
gathering of joy
It was cool, sunny and bright, a
nice Sunday
clothes day. The birds sang,
nonchalantly, as
that January day not long after
his last birthday
when he went away. Never have so
many of us
been together. It’s only a
family meal now &
a phone call. “You know, he
would have been
a hundred today if he had
lived,” I told Mama
who is now 94, her voice remains
strong. She
told me an old neighbor died &
was buried
at Hassidiah last week. I spoke to
Miss Lula Bell
her oldest girlfriend. “I hope
to see you all in the
spring,” I said. “Yes, if God
is willing.” Amen
I said, I wish you all the best for the New Year
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