Poetry

An old lady,
Wrinkles stamped on her face,
Greeted me 'Merry Christmas',
Invited me to her residence.
Her cottage was simple and cosy,
Filled with love, kindness and humility,
Her daughters welcomed me,
Served dinner with cake and sweet.
With a simple job,
She struggled hard,
To educate her daughters,
Till they stood on their feet.
On Christmas day,
She thanked Jesus,
Invited guests,
Celebrated by serving a feast.

[Published in the 'feelings' column of 'Horizon', the Saturday supplement of 'The Assam Tribune' on 6 March 2010]