First day of Christmas -

Timmy peered through the thick leaves of the branches of the Willow tree that’s branches hung to the ground.  He and his sister, Sally, watched the hunched over Mrs. Davenport hobble down her broken-up walkway that had more clumps of dirt and uncut grass than cement.  There were patches of snow scattered about the yard but the walkway was clear.

                Mrs. Davenport didn’t have to open the gate to the picket fence since the bottom hinge stripped out from rust and laid a corner on the ground open to the world.  She reached into the mailbox and came away with nothing.  Below the empty mail box was an open-ended paper box harboring a local valuepac of coupons for the county.

                Folding the papers in half, Davenport tucked them under her arm and with cane in the other took six shuffling steps in place to turn and face the house.  After a brief pause, she undertook to regain the porch.  It was slow going as she picked her way testing each step before put her weight on the step.  Timothy just knew she was afraid of falling on a refrozen slab of ice. 

                “Let’s go, Timmy,” Sally said.  “Mom will want us home soon.”

                “it’s only four.  We have half an hour.”  Timmy dropped the peep-hole he created with his hands.  “Okay.”

                He followed Sally through the branches on the far side of the tree and headed home.

                Timmy pushed the back door open with Sally following him into the kitchen.  Mom was pulling out a five pound sack of self-rising flour.  “You gonna make cookies mom?”

                “Yes.  You want to help?”

                “Is it okay if we make some extra?  You know to give away.”

                “Sure, Hon.”  Mom mixed the dough and rolled out it into sheets.

                Timmy cut the dough into stars and Christmas trees and camels.  After coming out of the oven Sally frosted them in red, green and white icing.  She decorated some with sprinkles of blues, greens, reds and purples.

                It was nearly six-thirty when they finished ten dozen cookies.  “Mom, can I have some to take?”  Timmy asked.

                “Sure.  Use a giveaway keeper.”

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                Timmy set the container of cookies down on the rickety porch in front of the door and pounded on it.  He heard a thunk and rustling and ran for the willow.  He dove under the branches and parted them to watch.

                Mrs. Davenport opened the door and peered about and down.  She picked up the container and opened the card.

                Timmy read it from his memory as she studied it.  Afterall, he wrote it.

Merry Christmas

On the first Day of Christmas.

Your, Neighbor