Presents wrapped, table laid, candles lit, all in place.
Family come, kids and grand-kids, lonesome neighbour, dear Aunt Grace.
Plates piled high, drinks are poured, crackers pop, laughs and chatter.
Sweets and treats, gifts unwrapped, Queen’s message, jokes and banter.
Games begin: “It’s my turn!” “Don’t do that!” “You’re all cheats!”
Gentle Grace, soothing hurts, redeeming faults, making peace.
Time to leave, fond goodbyes, but for spats, a perfect day.
Like last year, and before, down the ages, just this way.
First time round our Father thinks, “World is good, it’s agreed;
all in place. My dear children!! Could be perfect, but they need —
redemption.”
Peter Dixon