Christmas China - by Jo Haggard

Christmas China

by Jo Haggard

Christmas China

Filled with one block of instant ramen

Half spent for lunch, half spent for dinner

Mama decorated the table

With scrunched old birthday streamers

Played her out of tune violin

Tapping her sneakers on the weathered wooden floor

I danced around hanging colors, it felt like a party

And I felt lucky

Sunday, eerie pews

Mama had been cursing God’s views since I knew who he was

But after service they put out tables of homemade food

So she smiled,

Dressed like the woman she called “prudes”

And called it a “religiously educational experience”

Ladies in pastels with tiny strings of pearls

Stroked my knotted curls

Mama said she felt like a fool, that we don’t belong here

So we sang horribly off pitch, looked innocent as we could appear

And laughed all the way home

Slumber party, mid December

Bundled together by the fireplace

We played butterfly

Emerging from the embrace of our blanket cocoons

Raspy shouts, as we scurried around the house

Till we got too cold to stand the winter chill

Mama looked sad and worried

But I had not been allowed to sleep with her in years

And I felt lucky

Paper snowflakes

Made out of the stack of envelopes that accumulated on the kitchen table

Mama cut them up with vengeance, like they made a sort of mistake

Ripping till they laid like fallen snow

Glue stuck in my fingers and hair

The house no longer felt bare

Holey socks, holey sleeves

I liked it, I could stick my fingers through, make a bunny ear

But the shiny boy at school laughed at me

Like he only saw holes and not the bunny

Mama asked about my tears

I smiled and wiped them away

And told her that

I felt lucky