There's a little chap at our house that is being mighty good- <br />Keeps the front lawn looking tidy in the way we've said he should; <br />Doesn't leave his little wagon, when he's finished with his play, <br />On the sidewalk as he used to; now he puts it right away. <br />When we call him in to supper, we don't have to stand and shout; <br />It is getting on to Christmas and it's plain he's found it out. <br /> <br />He eats the food we give him without murmur or complaint; <br />He sits up at the table like a cherub or a saint; <br />He doesn't pinch his sister just to hear how loud she'll squeal; <br />Doesn't ask us to excuse him in the middle of the meal, <br />And at eight o'clock he's willing to be tucked away in bed. <br />It is getting close to Christmas; nothing further need be said. <br /> <br />I chuckle every evening as I see that little elf, <br />With the crooked part proclaiming that he brushed his hair himself. <br />And I chuckle as I notice that his hands and face are clean, <br />For in him a perfect copy of another boy is seen- <br />A little boy at Christmas, who was also being good, <br />Never guessing that his father and his mother understood. <br /> <br />There's a little boy at our house that is being mighty good; <br />Doing everything that's proper, doing everything he should. <br />But besides him there's a grown-up who has learned life's bitter truth, <br />Who is gladly living over all the joys of vanished youth. <br />And although he little knows it (for it's what I never knew), <br />There's a mighty happy father sitting at the table, too.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-approach-of-christmas/
